In My Isolette

In my Iso-lette Lying in my Iso-lette The world is bright and still. With lid of glass and hinges fast, Alarms sound stark and shrill. Below them, yet another sound, Much softer, warm and near; It seems to seep from all around, Extinguishing my fear. Who is this, coming to my side, To be with me this day? I’m filled with courage to abide. “I’ll be with you, always.” Now I know I’m not alone In fact, I never was. The peace that warms my body now Has come from heav’n above. The voice again comes light and sweet. Eagerly I hear: “I’ve come to take you home, my son, Your work is finished here.”

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“You’ve filled a home with more than love In these short weeks gone by. They hold together stronger now: A bond you helped to tie.” “But what about my mother there, She’s sad she misses me. My Dad is trying not to cry, Just look how his tears flee…” I feel His love-filled hands take mine, Behold his precious face, “I promise you will be with them In my Eternal place.”

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Dedicated, with more than love, to Oliver Wryly Quayle, who truly filled our lives from November the first, 2003 to the 7th of December in the same year. “God be with you till we meet again, my son.” Max P. Quayle