a mother's wedding ring
O ring whose finger thou didst bear
in company so fair
What didst thou see and hear and feel
and touch in time
of tear
Whether joy or fear or sadness not
abandon to her self
In mourning now her ring I bear
whose presence seems
afar
Yet wilt I hold to courage still
and sing her love
so dear
That day wilt come I know not when
‘tis not mine to discern
When finger mine thou too wilt bare
and fare me well goodbye
O ring my hope then thou wilt bear
the finger of another
And she wilt ask of me "O ring
whose finger thou
didst bear
What didst thou see and hear and feel
and touch in time
of tear
In sadness now her ring I bear
whose presence
seems so far
Yet wilt I hold to courage still
and sing her love
so dear".
Penelope Olive
Prompt for today: a poem about a very small thing
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