My Aunt Janette – The Poem

My Aunt Janette – The Poem

I wrote this poem the morning after my Aunt Janette went to see our Lord. I woke up on Saturday morning and had these words in my mind, waiting to be written. So I sat and I wrote them.

Then on Thursday of this week, I decided to see if I could find the pictures we took at Uncle Lloyd and Aunt Janette’s farm last July. I opened the folder on my computer and I burst in to tears. Because, there she was, my beautiful Aunt Janette, right in front of me. Furthermore, there were pictures of her holding the child’s hand, pictures of her lifting the frail to new heights, and pictures of her happy, healthy, and completely at ease in her element. So I decided to pull a few pictures and put them into a post here including the poem. I took some of these pictures and my daughter Erin took some too.

Where’s that woman who used to embody farm?

She would work and still pull off that striking charm

 

There’s an empty spot in the garden over there

 A place vacated by the mother with golden hair

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Can I walk for a while where she would tread?

O’er the grounds many visitors she had led

 

 

That child’s hand isn’t held walking next to us

It would’ve been by the girl who grew up in Texas

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

May I enter her home and just sit for a while?

I can smell the bread and still see the smile

 

The room is full but something’s out-of-place

There’s a smile missing, absent, a friendly face

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Can I say a little something to remember her by?

How she’d reach for the frail and let them fly

 

There are stories shared, each must be told

Recalling the wife that never did look old

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Is it just me or is there happiness found here?

“…there am I in the midst…”; He is near

 

Gathered there is strength, and even more love

Missing here, we need only smile and look above