The day after my grandson’s funeral was the bleakest day of my whole life. It snowed, beautiful pristine, white and powdery snow but I was listless and did absolutely nothing except write this poem:-
On The Way Things Change 1
I’ve never hated snow before,
One of the things that I adore.
But with the snow comes bitter cold,
And now that matches with the hold
My grief has on my icy heart.
And I fear that won’t depart.
The grief I mean not pearly snow,
I hate the fact that that can go.
I was determined not to wallow so started the following day with a fierce drive to get on with things. Amazingly two poems came almost unbidden. This was one of them:-
On The Way Things Change 2
I wake and find my bedroom bright.
It’s later and it’s filled with light,
The snow has come whilst I’m asleep,
The roofs part white, the snow’s not deep.
I’m past my dark and bitter fear,
The snow’s a joy it brings me cheer.
The memories of colden days,
With Molly laughing doesn’t faze
Me in the least. I’ve found some joy.
He took his life but I love that boy.