I welcome any suggestions, constructive critiquing, and comments on this piece. It's haunting me a bit.
Thank you so much.
She'd worn his ring nearly 50 years;
he'd slipped it tenderly on her finger
as a symbol of their love -
no beginning, no ending.
From poorer to richer,
through thinner and thickest,
they shared their love;
learning to become stronger in
their weakest moments.
Together they traveled their journey;
pushing, pulling one another up steep mountains,
resting, holding one another in peaceful valleys,
breathing, drinking life in.
From health to sickness,
through good days and bad,
he stayed by her side;
grateful for the years they'd shared,
the canvas of memories they'd painted,
the lyrical moments too perfect to believe.
He'd loved her without reserve, without question.
Now, at her bedside, he soothed her last worries,
dried her saltiest tears, hiding his own.
he stroked her fragile hand
and kissed her worn gold ring.