Will this never cease,
the wrenching racking weeping
an infinite sense of loss?
No-one to speak or write to
who truly cares.
No more her sense of humour
laughing at the same things.
No-one able to listen quietly
then provide some comfort.
All this can't be contained
in a hideous dead weight urn.
So sprinkle the contents on the roses
where her ashes will create beauty.
I prefer to keep our undying memories.
Beautifully and eloquently put Jennifer on a difficult subject for some who have never experienced it.
Philipos
Fri 14th Aug 2020 18:56
Wreathe yourself in the better memories - rather than the mundane ones everybody has - one day a starling will stop and wink at you - and you will know immediately it is the message you have been waiting to receive.
Your poem reminds me of one of my favorite ones by Auden - 'What life is this if full of care - we have no time to stand and stare'
I enjoyed reading about your sojourn in Memory Lane - these are special memories to be fondly treasured and are unique to us.
? P.
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jennifer Malden
Sat 15th Aug 2020 22:39
Thanks Elizabeth, Abdul and Stephen for the likes, and Philipos and martin for the much appreciated comments. What a compliment to be even reminded of an Auden poem! This was written for my mother, when she died. I was astonished at how much I missed her, not being exactly a youngster when it happened. She was very good company, and apart from being my mother, I liked her as a person. Thanks again, Jennifer