I sit by your picture in the mornings;
And keep my vigil by the light’s burning;
My mind gives my body quiet warnings,
But they both succumb to my heart’s yearning.
I watched over you in your final days:
Keeping your tumours dry and your eyes wet;
Though cancer has its insidious ways,
Its horrors could not make my love forget.

I’ve your ashes in a pot, atop flowers;
So I may yet sit with this part of you.
I know the sea will claim this too, in hours;
But no power can take my love from you.
I shall, in time, not softly cry at night;
But now, sweet girl, I just bid you good night.