I Miss her all the time,
Her tender body clung to mine,
With tear dew'd eyes, her looking at me,
Her soft, slender fingers poking my tummy.
Before going, she sang her songs
Through her cries for love.
When I sang my childhood rhymes
The goddess of sleep descended from above.
She has left my home with her parents,
For their own home in town,
My home is now empty without her,
Though she was our tiniest member.
Thursday, February 19, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: love
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
The poem was written when our two months old grand daughter left our home with her parents.