My Blanket

Sometimes the winds of time will sweep
Across our minds
With cold and unrelenting dread
Amidst this toil and strife we weep
As ties that bind
Unravel as a loved one goes ahead
And all that we are left with
In our hands
Is a cloak of love-worn memories
Ah, sweet comfort after death
Its woven strands
Wrap around our heart; a blanket in our grief

Here and there perhaps a little hole
Where we’ve removed
A memory that might be best forgot
This shawl is wrapped around our soul
For those we loved
Will live on in memory and thought
The echo of their smiles and laughter
Mingled with their tears
Add the texture in our shawl
As we hear its gentle music after
Faded, distant years
We realize a part of them remains here after all

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin
27/11/09

I wrote this for a friend
who lost her dad a year ago.

Beneath my 'shawl' of memories
I can still hear my Grandma
sing 'When They Ring the G-o-o-olden
Bells'....with her voice cracking on the
high 'go-o-olden' note....
She has been gone for more than twenty years.....
And my other Grandma....?????
Hey that reminds me, I wrote a poem about my
most distinct memory of her......
I will post it soon, also a singing memory
as she would sing "Gott is de Liebe"( God is Love)