Tuesday 29 May 2012


These few things I take with me
A covering of moss,
The colour of lime,
And three forget me nots.

They felled trees the other day
To make the space seem wider,
And now the robins fly low,
Braver, braver.

The scent of nettles, sharp,
softened only by dandelions;
We let the grass grow wild
Beneath the bark and birch
and last remaining horse-chestnut.

A man lived here,
Forty years, a life -
No wife, no child, no pet;
Just a library of books
And every letter kept.

Dearest Uncle, your niece here,
I blew a dandelion free -
Nothing to wish for;
You were loved
And you loved, fully.

© Shaista Tayabali, 2012
for Uncle Motu
and the dverse poets


Brian Miller said...

nice rememberance of him...i love dandelion wishes and simple reminder that you are loved...

Laura said...

so beautiful and tender.

sharonlee said...

Sweet tender thoughts... encapsulating a life.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.....as your lovely uncle must have been as well. I love it, Shaista.

Kristina said...

I like this. It has a quietness to it.

SG said...

Beautiful Shaista. You know, reading this, I was wondering if, when I am no more, my niece would have similar thoughts. Beautifully expressed.

joanna said...

a tender tribute... simple & beautiful.

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