Goodbye, Gaston Poem by Frederick Kesner

.





My uncle, Gaston,
mum's elder brother, ,
died whilst I cradled him
in the crook of me arms.



He lay there bliss-filled;
Faint lustre of his boyhood charms.



It was a waiting game
and he was hanging on.
He held back grim Reaper's blade
Unmindful that he'd had it made.



I whispered in his ear
About the good times,
our common dreams;
how it was okay to let go,
to forgive and be forgiven.



Then off he floated, by candle's glow,
like the silent flutter of wispy snow.








.