I wrote it after my grandfather died late last year. I know it's not the best poem ever written, that the structure could be better etc, but I just wanted to share.
It doesn't matter that you're gone
That the wind keeps blowing,
And the weeds keep growing
In patches on your lawn.
Edward was in the garden that day,
Picking, and pottering, and planting away
While his shadow followed him quietly
It doesn't matter that you were frail
That your hair was thin and grey,
And that your cane got in the way
Leaving a distant yet distinctive trail.
Edward was in the garden that day,
Scattering and spraying and squirting away
While the sun smiled down at him wearily
It doesn't matter that you forgot things
That your memory was jumbled
And that you sometimes fumbled
When putting on your wedding rings.
Edward was in the garden that day,
Trimming, and tottering and tubing away
While the wind tugged at him playfully
It doesn't matter that you couldn't see well
That you wore your glasses on the tip of your nose
And that you often began to doze
Napping for short, dreamy spells.
Edward was in the garden that day,
Walking, and watering and wondering away
While death began to whisper to him softly
It does matter that you're gone
That you were the only grandfather I had
And that your death makes me so often sad
As I slowly and steadily continue to mourn.
Edward was in the garden that day,
Laughing and, living, and loving away
While death swept him up forcefully
And it took him away...
Post edited at 1:25 pm on Oct. 17, 2009 by feeltheshane
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You'll always be beautiful in my eyes.