
The Language of Us
Doris Falidis-Nickolas’ poetry beautifully captures love, loss, and remembrance, offering comfort to those navigating grief.
MIDDERHAM. - Jan H.E. The clock of life is wound but once, and no man has the power, to tell where the hands will stop, at late or early hour. To lose ones wealth is sad indeed, to lose ones health is more, to lose ones soul is such a loss,that no man can restore. The present only is our own, to seek to do God's will, tomorrow holds no promise, for the clock may then be still. - Loved husband of Betty, loved father of Robert and Lovisa, loving grandchildren Ashleigh, Liam, Ashtyn and Spencer and all other children, grandchildren and great grandchildren.
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