The hand of death struck without warning, Leaving her family and friends in mourning. She was instantly killed by an oncoming car, While crossing the road from her home not far.
Lynn was nineteen and a future bride, She left behind Michael who silently cried. She was laid to rest on the fourteenth of September, Near realtives of old she had hardly remembered.
Her grave was cold and she felt alone, Until Micheal, in tears, knelt by her stone. And from where she lay, love could be felt, For there was warmth from where he knelt.
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Reviews of "Warmth"
Reviewed by Elizabeth Olsen (Reader)
Reviewed on November 28, 2003
Great read as usual. A sad, chilling tale, but worth platitudes.
I met Jerome on a busy city street in Baltimore, Maryland, when he was forty-five years old. On that particular day, I was out and about, enjoying a much-needed day off from work.
I wanted to purchase a sukiyaki sub. I parked my car in an area of
A book-length psychodynamic study of pathological narcissism, relationships
with abusive narcissists, and the Narcissistic Personality Disorder, using a new vocabulary.
“Being a couple yet free is our next challenge on the evolutionary ladder. This book successfully helps us unravel the myths that block that achievement. It does it with warmth, with readability, and with balance. It recreates everyday problems and
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Until Micheal, in tears, knelt by her stone.
And from where she lay, love could be felt,
For there was warmth from where he knelt.
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Excellent! Those last lines are beautiful!