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Grief Poem - It's Springtime

It's Springtime, Lord and we grow old; we don't know what to do.

Our helpers left, they were so good, but they flew off to You!

At Church last week, three empty seats, one ill, two flew above.

We're born to die, You'll call us home, we'll go "back home" in love.

Birthdays fly by, plus special days, dear ones sometimes leave gifts,

Given by friends to share their love, then they took off - "airlift"!

One Tuesday noon, we met for lunch, there was an empty seat.

A friend joined us, said lunch was paid; from "Ms." - lunch was "her" treat!

It seems this month that friends leave us; are we just grow...

 

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