Poem fear by Peter Dixon

Fear

She stooped and held his hand with anxious care,
she felt his weakening grip as life went out
and ran between the fingers mingled there.

And in that moment both could softly share
what life and death had always been about:
she stooped and held his hand with anxious care.

She saw the frightened frantic wordless stare
that filled his eyes with dumb and fearful doubt
and ran between the fingers mingled there.

She knew the fears the dying have to bear,
the vicious pains of panic's voiceless shout,
she stooped and held his hand with anxious care.

And all the while she stroked his ragged hair
until a grain of comfort trickled out
and ran between the fingers mingled there.

So in the end he brought himself to dare
the death that waited eager round about:
she stooped and held his hand with anxious care
that sparked between the fingers mingled there.


Hoope I can help you.