Every garment gathering dust
But to remove them I know I must
Each pretty dress or blouse
Taken down so gently
Each with its own sweet memory
Shaking as now I touch
And feel the softness there
For I know all these again
She will never wear
Dusted, neatly folded too
This she would always do
I’ll never throw them away
But must move them all today
Still can’t believe this ever happened
Still seems to be a dream
Waiting now for her to ask
What I’m doing with her things
Still bravely I carry on
For I know this must be done
Wardrobe looking empty now
Must keep going on somehow
Shining silver and coloured tops
How I remember walking round the shops
To find something different for the evening
Often I thought far too revealing
But she would always wear
Everything she had with flair
Must stop awhile hurt too great
The rest for another day must wait…….