what beauty
restrained
in that which you give
for others – the debt seldom paid
so easy the burden
made lesser somehow
for smiles left in passing –
our sorrows
to trade

what story exists
in promise divine –
is come in the balm of a friend
pressed as a salve
to the breaking apart
of all we have lost –
we gather
again

what honor
is held
in lockets so fair –
would blush even now
at her praise
let us bend to this silence
with thanks on our lips
for our blessing
in knowing –
this keeper of grace

as joys
we have garnered
what name do they say
a chair –
at the table they save
let them be patient
o let them not mourn
for moments forgotten –
in living forgave

what graces
without
the kingdom must be
when given us glimpse
of your light
what selfless compassion
were angels to kneel –
when round us they gather
as souls into flight

. . .

Margaret Thatcher
13 October 1925 – 8 April 2013