Author's Note: I am editing an anthology of my poems which, I hope, to have finished by this summer. This poem has undergone many many reiterations, but frankly I cannot come up with a title I really like. I am asking for suggestions-one that grabs you by the kishkes if you know what I mean.
Should you care to participate, you may respond in the comments section at the end of this piece, respond to it on Facebook by "liking" it and leaving your suggested title in the comments section or by emailing me your suggestion at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Submissions will be open until Friday afternoon, 02/07/14 by 3:00 p.m. Chicago time. I will consider all thoughtful suggestions. If I receive one I wish to use, the contributor's name shall appear in the preface of the published anthology
I look forward to hearing from you.
Alan D. Busch
copyright, 2014 to author Alan D. Busch
p.s. regarding the date 02/07/14, if you multiply the '2" times the "7", the product equals the year "14". Interesting?
Quietly I knew He had called for you.
'How without you would life be to live?'
Nary a moment before I'd always thought,
'my life for yours I wouldst give.'
Far fewer fallen were the raindrops that morn
than all the tears our mourning eyes did shed.
Yet, we take comfort in knowing Son,
that to olden souls wilt thou soon be wed.
I have no more words Ben than these to say,
How difficult it has been for all without thee
But of a more special love I do not know
Than mine for you and yours for me.