Your grace always will be


From a time lost in time your grace seemed to precede time, somehow
War scars the trophies of an edict of unimaginable pain
your self glamorously reinvented as survival, you became our anchor
swayed through discreet glimpses, you knew

Yours the finest aristocracy of trauma, never undone
Humble and radiant, honoured, endlessly seductive,
a generous conundrum, your force was such, it felt
you’d ever be there

The call from afar you once answered I followed
through your joyful bravery
And I thus knew the World
as you had rendered it possible.

The day came and you bathed in despair,
Us unable to decipher, and yet you sweltered urgency,
Our hands held, as compassion was all that was left.
That day your choked breathing and mumbling had become one
and your eyes spoke of agony, heroically resisting departure.

As they finally closed and rested I kissed your forehead
and blessed our unspoken comraderie
Our promised lunch, endlessly delayed, now no longer to be.

You now on your journey, freed of scars
Us left behind, perplexed at the impossible
You no longer were


for Isabel, 1942-2016