His hands were strong - they wore a golden band

With pride - I loved to look at his right hand!

It shielded me from injury and harm,

His smile was full of playfulness and charm.

O vigorous and so industrious hands,

That wrought sheer miracles with odds and ends

And wielded tools and implements with skill,-

Ingenious, creative, deft, - until-

Grave illness struck my darling to the core

And gone were all the happy days of yore,

Of kicking pedals tandem on a bike

And walking on the beach, or take a hike,



The strong tanned hands now looked so white and pale,

diaphanous, transparent, thin and frail,

Don’t touch sheer hands so etherialized,

“Noli me tangere” had said the Christ

To Magdalen who clutched with eagerness

At hands familiar, but so diaphanous.

But I did strain with all my might to hear

The utterances of my cavalier

To take in every gesture, every word,-

He spoke with shortened breath now, but I heard::



I heard a Rider galloping a-field

In furious gallop and I shuddered, chilled.

My heart skipped beats with anguish, dread and fear

The rider stopped his course and now drew near

He had a sharpened scythe and it was clear

He targeted my knight. my cavalier,

And stood between the sick bed and my seat

And now began to graze my Stephen’s feet..



I interjected myself - “Stop! be gone!

Away dark rider, leave my Love alone!

The only true love that I ever had,

Do not come near,- do not approach his bed!”

I pleaded desperately, begged and cried,

Apocalyptic Rider! - spare my knight

Have merci! pity! - for I need him so!

But he retorted:: “It is time - let go!”

“Let go! let go!, Ah letting go is sweet!

Give up! submit! to what‘s on high decreed.!”

O ethereal strange translucency

Of my love’s face and hands, it seemed that he

Was seeking, groping, tapping ’long the sheet

With his frail hands a stronger hand to meet

than mine whose fingers slipped so helplessly

T’wixt tears and moans beads of the rosary.



The rider swung the scythe and dealt the blow

and peace supreme shone from my true love’s brow;

A groan, a prayer as I held him tight

In vain, my Love had gone into the Light





In memory of my beloved husband Stephen

A Heard a Rider Galloping Contributed by Elizabeth_Dandy on Thursday, 31st October 2002 @ 12:00:00 PM in AEST Topic: Grief His hands were strong - they wore a golden band With pride - I loved to look at his right hand! It shielded me from injury and harm, His smile was full of playfulness and charm. O vigorous and so industrious hands, That wrought sheer miracles with odds and ends And wielded tools and implements with skill,- Ingenious, creative, deft, - until- Grave illness struck my darling to the core And gone were all the happy days of yore, Of kicking pedals tandem on a bike And walking on the beach, or take a hike, The strong tanned hands now looked so white and pale, diaphanous, transparent, thin and frail, Don’t touch sheer hands so etherialized, “Noli me tangere” had said the Christ To Magdalen who clutched with eagerness At hands familiar, but so diaphanous. But I did strain with all my might to hear The utterances of my cavalier To take in every gesture, every word,- He spoke with shortened breath now, but I heard:: I heard a Rider galloping a-field In furious gallop and I shuddered, chilled. My heart skipped beats with anguish, dread and fear The rider stopped his course and now drew near He had a sharpened scythe and it was clear He targeted my knight. my cavalier, And stood between the sick bed and my seat And now began to graze my Stephen’s feet.. I interjected myself - “Stop! be gone! Away dark rider, leave my Love alone! The only true love that I ever had, Do not come near,- do not approach his bed!” I pleaded desperately, begged and cried, Apocalyptic Rider! - spare my knight Have merci! pity! - for I need him so! But he retorted:: “It is time - let go!” “Let go! let go!, Ah letting go is sweet! Give up! submit! to what‘s on high decreed.!” O ethereal strange translucency Of my love’s face and hands, it seemed that he Was seeking, groping, tapping ’long the sheet With his frail hands a stronger hand to meet than mine whose fingers slipped so helplessly T’wixt tears and moans beads of the rosary. The rider swung the scythe and dealt the blow and peace supreme shone from my true love’s brow; A groan, a prayer as I held him tight In vain, my Love had gone into the Light In memory of my beloved husband Stephen Copyright © Elizabeth_Dandy ... [ 2002-10-31 12:00:00] (Date/Time posted on site) Advertisments: Previous Posted Poem         | |         Next Posted Poem