She appeared in the doorway
Of our loving room,
Beautiful as a sunset
Or a rose in full bloom.
She was wearing her favorite dress,
Saved for special occasion.
A picture of loveliness,
A very coaxing persuasion.
Her dress of dark blue
Seemed to glow in the light,
It fit her every curve,
Not too loose, not too tight.
Her face of natural radiance
Would put Aphrodite to shame.
Her beauty set my heart on fire,
Nothing could put out the flame.
Years later, I lost her,
It was hard to believe she died.
I buried her in her favorite dress
Standing over her I cried.
Now I am alone once more
And I must confess,
I miss my lovely lady,
Wearing her favorite dress
Willie P. (3/13/20)
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Author Notes
As usual, this is for my wife. If she had a fault, I don't know what it was.
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