Mostly light hearted but often with a serious message.
In memory of Peter Andrew Green 09/03/85 – 21/05/85 ‘Riddle of Destiny, who can show, what thy short life meant or know? – Charles Lamb
Born in March
Taken in May
Limp and lifeless
Rue the day.
Breathing life in you
Only brought hours
The pain and the grief
Forever ours.
We were like the Holy Family
So the chaplain said
The ward like Bethlehem’s stable
Two parents wrapt with their child
But the child was dead.
You reminded him somehow of Mary
The messiah spread across her
As our child lay in your arms now
Limp and dead.
What’s the line from Eliot
About seeing birth and seeing death
And thinking they were different?
In the silence life and death
Seemed only a breath apart.
The child in my mind’s eye manger
Wears a crown of thorns.
For SouldierGirl and everyone who has known the grief of losing a child.
My grief first borne was like
A wound fresh made that bled
And nought could stem its flow.
But as it healed
I’d pick the scab
And want to see it red.
I feared that if it healed you see
I’d have to let you go.
The wound I bore
Has hardened now
I wear it as a scar
I run my fingers down its length
And know an inner strength.
Andrew Green's Poems 