Though you are far gone from my ribs Emelda
I still hold fast to your scent when’er the wind blows
It is summer and the luv-trees
You planted in my heart still grow, Emelda.
Though you are far gone from my ribs, Emelda
This giant pinky picture of you at my bedside
Replays our summer visit to the lakeside
Reminding me that soon your letter will walk in saying: ‘love from Emelda’