Memoriam

A poem from the short collection: From Seed To Soil.

That evening I went back to church.
With incense burning in the air,
Petals strewn along the aisles,
Ribbons tied with so much care.
Yet not a soul remained – but I,
Not a soul to weep for you.
And I’ll admit, my love – I cried –
For I don’t know what I will do.

Without the touch that gripped my heart,
No more will your smile grace my day.
The gentle kiss that banished fear.
The hand the held me on my way.
The days we screamed and ran and dreamt,
The walls we left and built instead.
The nights we cried ourselves to sleep,
The nights we wished would never end.

The hardest part was at the grave.
To know the tears were all for you.
The fact that you will never know,
The love from all those souls you knew.
The sympathy that gathered round,
The tears, the anguish as you passed.
To know that deep down you realised,
Your constant battle could not last.

Oh how I’ll miss your little words,
That helped me make it through each morn.
You’re rusty magnifying glass,
You’d peer through when a stitch was torn.
The stove that clattered as you cooked,
The wink when I said ‘thank you dear’.
I’ll miss the smell of your perfume,
The bliss of when I had you near.

It struck me as I left the church,
And watched the sun fall back to sleep,
Beyond I heard some children laugh,
And dogs bark at the falling leaves.
The cars below, and planes above,
The smell of autumn lingers on.
Of all the things that you won’t see.
It’s real.
It’s done.
My God you’re gone.

Oh dearest, how I’ll pray for you,
And pray that there’s a Lord above.
For if there’s not what is there left?
Just darkness, cold and infinite?
There so much I’ve to say to you,
And so much you will never hear.
I struggle down Old Campton Road,
I struggle for you are not near.

Written By Shane Ferguson
In August 2010, Completed On The 28th January 2011