Oct 2017
The sound of the rain on the roof,
is nothing compared to the sweet sound of your voice.
The sight of the ocean waves splashing across the rocks,
is not as beautiful as your smile.
The feel of silk clothing on your skin,
is not as comforting as your hands holding mine.
The smell of the sweetest lavender,
is nothing compared to the smell of your perfume.
Great Grandma,
Get well soon.
We all love you and God Bless You.
is nothing compared to the sweet sound of your voice.
The sight of the ocean waves splashing across the rocks,
is not as beautiful as your smile.
The feel of silk clothing on your skin,
is not as comforting as your hands holding mine.
The smell of the sweetest lavender,
is nothing compared to the smell of your perfume.
Great Grandma,
Get well soon.
We all love you and God Bless You.
I found this poem I wrote when my grandma had a brain aneurysm back in probably 2008 I believe? She passed away not too long after I wrote this. She did not get a chance to hear it.
