Thoughts of Mr. Hart

Last evening I fell asleep after checking on the shop and making sure no further break-ins had occured.  The bed felt so much colder without my husband as well as the room, I recall how he used to call me his songbird.  For each morning that had passed before I would go to the shop and work and he'd wake up to me singing some melody or another that my Mother would often use.  I dreamt of him and he held me tight and secure in his arms we laughed and spoke of the children we wanted to have and I thanked him for being so good to me.  Goodbye dear Mr. Hart lover of my soul and the best friend I could have ever had. Rest, now in eternal slumber and maybe one day we'll see one another again.