Grandma.

Grandma.

 

The tears are welling silently

 to course down Grandmas withered cheeks

As in her fractured memory

she hears a well loved voice which speaks.

Of happy days so long ago

 when they were young and they first wed

It’s just a guess we cannot know.

 What thoughts are ruling in her head.

She doesn’t know what day it is

Her body’s here but she is not.

I try to comfort with a kiss

and then she smiles she has forgot.

If only temporarily

why she was sad apparently.

 

Friday, 15 October 2010

http:// blog.myspace.com/poetic piers.