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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.



◄ Stealthy Predators


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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

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Martin Elder

Fri 14th Aug 2020 23:22

Beautifully and eloquently put Jennifer on a difficult subject for some who have never experienced it.

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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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