A Golden Heart
God saw you were getting tired
And a cure was not to be,
So He put His arms around you
And whispered, "Come with me",
With tearful eyes we watched you suffer
And saw you fade away,
Although we loved you dearly;
We could not make you stay.
So when we saw you sleeping,
So peacefully from pain, we could not wish you back
To suffer that way again.
A golden heart sopped beating.
Your hard-working hands were at rest,
As God then gently called for,
His brightest and His best.
Sorry I do not know who the author of this beautiful poem is - So I can not give him/her the proper credit for it. However whomever wrote this poem did a wonderful job and I am very grateful to them:)
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