God saw you getting tired
and a cure was not meant to be,
So he put his arms around you
and whispered "Come to Me".
With tearful eyes we watched you,
as we saw you pass away.
Although we loved you deeply,
we could not make you stay.
Your Golden Heart stopped beating,
hard working hands at rest.
God broke our hearts to prove to us,
He only takes the best.
Copyright © 1997 Therese Williamson