This the Trust Is

She the Fatima, always drew you in her soul,
Throu her unique ways, and aye,hosted you
Closer as an infant; in her wedding shawl. 
She a lady of lofty falls, played bare in blue
Nights and sleep lately,as candles kept burning,
And life's pleasent journey end in blights.
Ahh, the Lady, was fond of black sandals, a turning
Came when kids received their wits; then bites
Befell, in that vineyard of sweet loves,
And doctor aforesaid; It's a kind of hysterics
O love! no-no, it was your love towards-kids,
In latter,years of life those sweet
burns, came to light, 
Blessful Lady!  "had you lived few years more"
Overhere are the beetles;  new things, this the truth is----

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