Undaunted By The Distant Years

She lay before me thin and pale

Like a haloed saint in a manuscript.

"I am so tired, I feel so frail",

And still the body refused to fail

In a room as cold as a stone carved crypt,

A room lit solely by her smile

That filled its crevices with gold

She looked on me a longer while,

One who knew not hate nor guile

And slowly her sweet limbs grew cold.

At the end I read from Savitri,

Unable to contain the tears.

As the rose is of eternity

So too her soul shall stay with me

Undaunted by the distant years.