I sit in the chair that he sat in, <br />And sleep in the bed where he slept, <br />The silence is loud to my hearing, <br />How many times now, have I wept. <br /> <br />I view all the things that he collected, <br />Knowing how he cherished them too, <br />And here in my heart he will linger, <br />Because he was the one, of value. <br /> <br />He was my love and my hero, <br />My right hand and my sounding board, <br />A husband and friend, right up to the end, <br />For us there was never discord. <br /> <br />I sit in the chair that he sat in, <br />And remember how close we became, <br />He'll always be with me in spirit, <br />I'm so proud to have taken his name. <br /> <br />© Ernestine Northover<br /><br />Ernestine Northover<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-hero-8/
