Grief

[Ann B]

A poem for my dad.

Grief​

Isn't grief meant to wane?
And passage of time should ease the pain,
So great loss pales, to sentimental chat,
Romantized recollections, far removed from fact.​

Should I stick to the rules, and think of you less?
Abandon all sorrow, would that be best?
Allow daily trivia to tap all my tears,
Till all memory of you, slips away with the years.​

Or may I travel my own road of mourning?
And welcome you warmly, with each new day's dawning.
Gladly speak your name, and cry if I wish,
For, weren't you a man, who deserved to be missed?​

Ann​

 

[G G Jean]

Ann where did that come from please. Or whose heart?. Jean.

 

[Rupert]

Well done AnneB. A beautiful little verse and one senses that it is the result of an experienced loss. I know well that emotion can produce positive things from sorrow. Hopefully this is a harbinger of more and happier verse to come.

Rupert.

 

[Jackie Hill]

Ann

What a lovely Poem, so full of meaning

Jackie

 

[Lynda Harvey]

Such true words Ann. I lost my son of 28 years in January 2006. I know every one grieves differently, but I haven't stopped speaking of him since the day he died. The tears don't come so often, and there is more laughter now, remembering the good times we had with him.
Just a Mom

 

[ladywood]

Grief

Isn't grief meant to wane?
And passage of time should ease the pain,
So great loss pales, to sentimental chat,
Romantized recollections, far removed from fact.

Should I stick to the rules, and think of you less?
Abandon all sorrow, would that be best?
Allow daily trivia to tap all my tears,
Till all memory of you, slips away with the years.

Or may I travel my own road of mourning?
And welcome you warmly, with each new day's dawning.
Gladly speak your name, and cry if I wish,
For, weren't you a man, who deserved to be missed?

Ann​

Very thoughtful.
I think this one of W. H. Auden is very moving.

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Here is a sketch I did very quickly of my brother under a cherry tree at the grave of an Uncle and Aunt we both miss.

ladywood

 

[Bernard67Arnold]

Hello Ann, What a lovely poem, you must have really loved your Dad to write
words like that about him! The trouble with grief is that it usually comes so
sudden, no one prepares you for it and people just dont know how to deal with it,. My wife passed away in April last yearfollowing a stroke, and I still
dont know how i have coped, the world seems such a empty and lonely place
and no one seems to care. I have a son and daughter, Stephanie lives just
outside Nantchwich in Chesire which is an hours drive away but she works full time,is diabetic type one, and has adaughter age 17 so her time is pretty
limited for her old Dad, they have both been very good really!
Anyway have kept you long enough, bye take care Bernard