I put a flower upon your grave

and ask dear God above,

“Why Lord did you take from me

the one I dearly love?”


I need her more than heaven.

There are many angels there.

To take my angel here on earth

just doesn’t seem quite fair.


As I prayed and cried in anguish

there appeared a gentle breeze,

and I thought I heard a whisper

as I knelt there on my knees.


“Sweetheart trust in Him.

Death is not the end.

Time will quickly pass, and then

we’ll be together again.”


The wind went softly on it’s way



whistling through the trees,

and I found the peace I sought


inside a fleeting gentle breeze.

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