Born 26 June, 1916
Left us with great love in our hearts
and many happy memories
18 January, 2009
Here is a little poem I wrote many years ago, after visting with Gran.
Warm and Still
We were finally alone, my Gran and I,
and I made her come out into the garden with me.
I was glad that I had for it was warm and still
and we sat drinkng large mugs of tea.
She was small and round in the old wicker chair,
and I lay to her right in the long summer grass.
She told me anything I wanted to know —
laughing and squinting into the sun.
The ants crawling over our fingers, we talked,
blind to the creepers growing up around us,
weaving into our past and our present,
for we knew that tomorrow would pull us apart.
When the sun at last dipped down the back of the house
and the grass turned cool and damp, we rose
and gathered ourselves drowsy from sun,
and hand-tight-in-hand, entered the house.