The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible. ~Vladimir Nabakov

Friday, December 5, 2008

Grandmother My HERO

Her beautiful face imprinted is forever onto my heart
And no matter where I will journey this will never part

The gentleness in her voice and many humorous sides
She was quirky, silly and fun playing seeks and hides

In her gigantic closets so hard of solid wood
I did my best obeying though rarely was good

Hiding and roaming through her various clothes
Somehow loving the pungent smell of mothballs

Dressing up in her scarves and jumping in feather bed
I loved everything about her from her toes to her head

She is my very dearest now unwell grandmother
Her soul is so very different, not like any other

The love I feel for her is beyond human view
Now only memories held of the times that flew

Her illness in memory lacks and my recognition failed
Though her body still lingers, her soul has long sailed

She was my protector from my father so violent
My escape into childhood I do reminisce silent
Hiding and running from his unsteady blowing fuses
She was my hero rescuing me from these many abuses

Missing her immensely, her voice and warm touch
I know somehow inside she remembers that much

She was a mother to nature, the dying and living
Her soul and life mission always pure and giving

Never wanting and lusting anything for her
Nor desiring or ever wearing any animal fur

Her birthdays come by as I celebrate in silence
Thanking for her help from my fearing violence

She will remain immortal within my heart and mind
Her brilliance and kindness is so hard to find

Alzheimer illness is unkind and fast
And stole a Hero from me at last

I adore you grandmother without end
As angels in my prayers to you I send

And when death hour visits for your pass
I hope you let go this life closing your eyes

There is nothing left for you here
Your great life is long done my dear

So let go with ease
And rest in peace


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