Not all tears of grief are unwelcome. It’s hard to explain; but at times there is something precious about tears.

The sun is sharp and bright, the air is very hot,
The breeze prevents the feeling that it’s close.
The sky? A poet’s blue the one that’s not
Describable in simile or pros.
I’m hanging out the washing on the line,
And crying big fat tears with thoughts of her.
I can’t explain in words these tears of mine,
So very strange they make me happier.
The deficit still dogs me all the time.
I want to share these days with my lost wife,
But still I’ve joy to share and find and I’m
So glad I savour past and future life.

If you would like to hear me reading this poem then click  here alternatively you might feel your time is better spent looking at pictures of pegs, if so click here!!