Jane Stacey (1965-2017)
Clouds are come upon the bright days
A deep sky hangs all the greyer for loss
And time sweeps away our last courage
For now our grief is made all the darker
When such an unexpected shadow falls
Tis the hammer blow of utter sadness
Where the woods and fields yield
Empty landscapes of hopelessness
For we cannot be made whole again
Now time has set you to slumber early
All we may do now, is find a little peace
Remembering your eloquence and laughter
And within darkness see your illumination
Shorten this maze of grief by remembrance
Without sorrow will we talk of joyful times
In whispers of friendship deep in the night
And we will never forget you sweet lady
52 is too small a number to count with you