Memory

My memory of the past years has gone. I do not remember writing a poem about my grandaughter when we lost her to the dreaded brain tumour at the age  of 23. It was not until my daughter, her mother, asked me to obtain a plaque on which could be engraved my poem which could then be mounted on an a piece Orkney stone which she could then put in her garden. Fortunately  I had recorded this poem on my computer.

I did get the poem engraved, I am now waiting for the stone to be cut.

I did not know I could write the words about Michelle, the words which made me cry.

If anyone wants to read these words, I will recount.

Michelle, a Grandad’s love can not always be

What he and others would like to see.

But it is there forever.

I loved Michelle; I love her now, her beauty, her smile,

And, oh! Those eyes, those beautiful eyes,

What story did they wish to tell?

I will look into those eyes from day to day,

I will try to read the message they wished to convey,

I’m sure no one and I will ever know that secret message.

All they and I will ever see,

Is their captivating, precious beauty

The message will be lost forever.

No, not forever, because I will be told,

When I have my Michelle to hug and hold,

When, I am privileged enough,

To be with her where she is now.

This is not the end for me and my Michelle