Both avid George Jones fans. Poetry from the pen of

~The Poet’s Poet~

The drawing room fell silent as she entered

Huddled groups glancing across at each other

All the talking had been done

The dark picture had been painted.

No one dare take their eye off the ball

A portrait of grief, misery, sadness, tears.

His spirit could be felt overpowering the room

When the mist settles all will be revealed.

Was turning the house into a shrine the way to go

They had been married forty five years

One as eccentric as the other

Placing the wreath upon the door

They exited, her hand placed lightly on the casket

“He stopped loving her today” echoing throughout the rambling mansion.

© Chris Black. March 2019

#Poetry #amwriting