I heard that Kay's sister left us that day,
upon herself she chose to lay-
Will you, Lord, lift up her Soul on that day, foretold?
A delicate and gentle girl for sure,
her own wings naught, to that day, unfold-
In the dark of winter, her coverts froze-
So, may you send an Angel to descend upon her stone,
pick her up ever so gently-
And carry her Home.
August 25, 2010. © Gerard Haughey, All rights reserved