Your Garden's Grief

by kayleigh Evans
(Staffordshire )

Each morning, my reflection speaks your eyes
And stories of solemn glances, wisdom, smiles.
Your voice imprinted; unfading;my mind wanders...
The day is just beginning; Spring is coming.

You would have sewn seeds, nurtured the earth by now,
Cleaned Winter from your garden bench
And sat contented, yet pensive in a dazzling Spring light,
Life looming, reaching, and you, grasping at green hands.

Shoots reincarnated, emerge from hiding places,
Birthing new buds, which will bloom bold orange,
Warm and bursting; garden's spotlight; like you.
But your dust couldn't fill the pot in which they grow.

Withered to a wistful mist, yet brimming with life,
Your eyes still aglow with orange, all seeing.
Soil echoes words and wisdom once said
And you, renewed and living; gone from us. Now dead.





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Aug 17, 2017
Memories NEW
by: Griff

A thought provoking poem written very well and in a way that you can feel that it brings back happy memories to the author but you can also feel the loss and void in their lives.
Bought memories of my dad sat on his bench in the morning sun with his mug of tea watching the soil spring to life and the world slowly passing by

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