L

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Sunday 20 September 2015

My darling brother.....

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.
                                           Mary Elizabeth Fry

My darling brother died yesterday in the arms of his beloved lady guardian. He had crept quietly in to her life and wrapped his soul around her heart and head, as I strode wilfully t'ward our male guardian. Oh what sorrow. A gentle, peaceful, more loving gentleman, one could not find. My poor lady guardian is calm but truly devastated, they shared a bond that saw female and feline live as one; where she went, he would follow, as one. Such a chasm that I will endeavour to fill for all of us. 
Goodbye little man, man of peace. Gone but never forgotten.




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