THE VISITOR
As they read their favourite stories ‘neath the old oak tree,
Deep love shows through, but there is one missing you see,
When the things always done together the feeling is there
That the dear departed loved ones can come feelings to share.
The breeze in the branches, the laughter they used to share,
The fragrance of the blossoms that seem to fill the air
Bring that little one close, feel her chubby finger on the page
Of the best part of the story about a noble prince or sage.
Look at the family, is there not some sorrow deeply found?
Missing that sweet child now buried beneath the ground.
Let’s hope there’s understanding they can be together again,
And the closeness they all feel will help relieve the pain.
Almost close enough to hold hands and touch once more,
As if she is waiting for them at heaven’s lighted door.
Let us hope that the memory stayed in all they ever did,
And the stories under the oak tree were told and joy never hid.
(Millicent) Ann Margetson 21 January 2005