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.