Out of cyberspace you appeared--
My words, you said, to you endeared.
My poetry drew you in, you wrote--
Each word I penned gave you new hope.

For months we talked through just our keys.
A kinship grew through similar needs.
I met your family there online,
And through our emails you met mine.

An Iowa farm girl—that was you—
Now with a home, a garden, a big yard, too.
In life you’d been hurt like me,

But you struggled, you coped, and time set you free.

You said my Angel Wings was the best--
Head and shoulders above the rest.
You told me you read it every night.
"Angel," you called me, when you would write.

You couldn’t wait for another post,
"But," you said,  "Angel Wings you’d love the most…
No other would ever take its place!"
It felt good to feel a smile on your face!

You helped me through my darkest day
When my loving Father passed away.
When I was down you picked me up,
And you said it was I who brought you luck.

I remember when you visited your Mom and your Dad,
And afterwards, how you were so glad.
Fresh rhubarb from your garden you took--
Your Dad was excited about the ‘crisps’ he could cook.

Memorial Day saw a barbeque in your yard,
But Father’s Day for me was really hard.
You had the kids, grandkids, a whole family--
Homemade ice cream--but you still found time for me.

How could we possibly know then
Your precious life was almost at an end?
Just three days later you were gone…
Not even a chance to say ‘so long’.

I never once heard your sweet voice
And now time has left us no other choice,
For suddenly—without warning—you were stolen away.
I miss you, my online friend…farewell ‘til another day.

Copyright © Joyce Williams
All Rights Reserved 

 

The internet has made the world smaller and has enabled us to meet and make very good friends - friends that we may never see - but friends that we love and care about and if life takes them away from us - yes, we grieve.  Marci was my very special internet friend.  She did not know that her time on earth would be short - yet when I look back at her words, I have to wonder.......

Thanks again, Joyce, for being my faraway friend....with a magical gift for poetry.  I am too young (55 in July 2002) to just shrivel up and die....I like to dance, party, laugh,  play ball, and LIVE.  I am not ready to give up on life .  If it's only a short flight and if I crash land, I will have had the thrill of the flight. (I always see thru rose colored glasses, but I do have to clean them once in a while.)

Marci loved my poetry and called me "Angel".  I miss her very much.  Marci wrote to me shortly before she passed on:

"My home life is fine and it is Spring...a new season for everybody...new hopes, new dreams. I am happy, but it comes from within...."


I miss you friend,
Joyce

 

 

      


 

 
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