Gone, mind and soul from body,
Your physicality lays beneath us,
Your cognition sits on my shoulder,
Tells me that I'm wrong.
Your days are not over,
Nor have they just begun
One slip, one breath
Upon the bed he rests there.
One's problems and amenities are vanished,
For you are not lost to us,
Nor forsaken from us
Not forgotten from us.
You have left us with hundreds of coins of hope,
From all over the world,
Vanity and pride in hand,
Passed through wars and times.
"For there's a calm to throbbing hearts",
To find tranquility in tears of remorse
To find privacy in the heartache of grief
To find solitude while you rest in peace.
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 5:05 AM UTC
Gone, mind and soul from body,
Your physicality lays beneath us,
Your cognition sits on my shoulder,
Tells me that I'm wrong.
Your days are not over,
Nor have they just begun
One slip, one breath
Upon the bed he rests there.
One's problems and amenities are vanished,
For you are not lost to us,
Nor forsaken from us
Not forgotten from us.
You have left us with hundreds of coins of hope,
From all over the world,
Vanity and pride in hand,
Passed through wars and times.
"For there's a calm to throbbing hearts",
To find tranquility in tears of remorse
To find privacy in the heartache of grief
To find solitude while you rest in peace.
R.I.P., My beloved Grandad and World War II veteran fighter pilot from the age of 14, who died in his sleep in the early hours of the morning of 19th November 2013. You are not forgotten.
Request permission to use this poem