08 Monday Dec 2014
Grandma knew the cures
for scraped knees and upset tummies;
she even had advice for healing
broken hearts and troubled souls;
her kind ways minimized scarring
from the inevitable falls in life.
But I wish she’d shared the secret
of how I’d survive without her,
or how to get over missing her
when holidays and birthdays roll ’round.
Maybe only time can heal this wound.
05 Sunday Jan 2014
Posted in Life
He left, but he didn’t leave us.
Memories flood my mind,
flowing so fast at times I
stop to let them absorb me.
I’m reminded how he filled our lives,
how his wisdom seeped throughout,
how his generosity spilled over,
how his love melted our hearts.
I see him when I look in the mirror,
when I watch his children garden,
when I watch the grandchildren play,
or when I look into the clear, blue sky.
Yes, he left, but he didn’t leave us.
21 Saturday Dec 2013
Distressed beyond repair,
his body broken down,
years of daily living
finally take their toll.
Assistive, caring hands,
help bring a calm resolve,
labored, shallow breaths
replaced by even sounds.
As we sit here by his side,
listening to him sleep, his
quiescent repose grants
peace to grieving hearts.
Phyllis Moorman 