Twenty-five years ago, in a church dressed in spring.
You placed your hand in mine and accepted my ring.
During the years you gave to me a child for us to share.
An angel wrapped in lace, which said you truly care.
Our child is now grown up, soon to be leaving home.
She'll tell the world who she is, wherever she may roam.
Our love will travel with her in each step she takes.
We'll pray for her happiness, in the new life she makes.
Then once again we'll be alone, with no one else to share.
The loneliness of time, which you and I will bare.
While growing old together, we'll reminisce the start.
Of our lives filled with happiness and love which filled our hearts.
© 1996 Wayne H. McLaughlin 9209041010-134
Last poem written for Diann before her death on October 20, 1992 @ 16:36
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