July 12

The air was clear, cool, crisp
July being the coldest month
Flowers in profusion marking the pain
mingled with the private lives of parents

She was a gentle woman
Greatly hard done by
She delighted in simple ordinary things
She was above rubies

It marked a day of confusion
"What colour is it?"
declared her entry into this world
and the shame was ever thus

So it was remembered
This day 86 years ago
The loss was cool on the face
And palatable

Missed, still loved and in others
is her eternal life
As is lived by two generations
Adored, adorned, absent now.