My darling passed in a dream,
My world went with him.
All I have remaining are his bathing oils
And visions of his masculinity.

If only these withered hands
Could recall the times we caressed
It would suffice on this winter day.
Then I would not have to conceal
My sorrow with a smile.

Buxton Shippy

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-darling-21/