Wednesday, 25 April 2012

Missing the Point of Love

'Returned unopened,'
They'd writ it on her grave,
 From those she'd tried to save.

Poor woman, held in such regard,
Was nonetheless so cold and hard,
She never took a soul to love.
Nor shared her heart, or part thereof.

’twas not an unkind sentiment,
The words were grave and truly meant.
She'd served the church and died alone,
A well respected lost, old crone.

And so, they'd thought, he ought to know,
To just what lengths she'd had to go
To earn his love, within his church,
(For that was how she'd measured worth)

Believing that her Lord approved,
She'd had her joyfulness removed,
And wore her duty like a gun,
To keep her safe from everyone.

A virgin, pure in soul was she,
Alone in death, aged ninety three.
And now returned to whence she came,
'Returned unopened' 
Is all that remains.

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