Fay Slimm (Ageless. / in Cornwall U.K.)
How often would my phone go - then a voice would say
'It s only Venn'.
A soft and gentle Cornish tone
Would whisper low into the phone
As if excusing, say again
'Hello my love - it s only Venn'
My unassuming humble friend
Would never know up to her end
How glad I was I d stayed at home even tho I felt alone
Choking tears of loss again
I heard that voice - 'It s only Venn'
I cannot even recall when she 'd never said
'It's only Venn'.
Though big of frame and large of heart
Her lack of Self set her apart.
'So good to have a word or two' she'd say
'With someone kind as you'
She knew what loss of family meant
But Self aside, an ear she bent
As pouring out sad tears of grief
I knew my secrets she would keep.
KIND describes but just the few.
That word, dear Venn, applied to YOU
You never were that 'Only' Venn
And if some day we meet again
You'll know yourself for who you are -
Dear Venn - you've always been a star!
Comments about this poem (Only Venn by Fay Slimm )
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