Donations

07/16/2016
Nana Loraine and grandad Pete

Harry a little poem titled One minute at a time. Little by little we gathered what was left of our broken heart, The pieces which remained were beyond repair, Torn and damaged, dead, far beyond and out of reach. Desperately we tried, other times we cried, For we knew, these tiny pieces were gone , are wounds exposed, and raw with pain, grief , despair! Forwards, backwards we would rock, too and fro we would go, Over and over, forwards and backwards we would rock, too and fro we would go. One minute at a time, going crazy all the while, holding those pieces of a broken heart. Surely, like plasticine we could mold a new heart, But, no matter how hard we tried, we squeezed and squoze, those pieces would just fall apart. Forwards and backwards we would rock, too and fro we would go. Over and over, forwards and backwards we would rock, too and fro we would go. One minute turned into an hour, an hour into a day, a day into a week, a month, a year... How we yearned for the days before the tears, When our heart was whole and complete, laughter was free, love was whole, not incomplete. Yet still, over and over, forwards and backwards we would rock, to and fro we would go. Over and over, forwards and backwards we would rock, to and fro we would go. One minute at a time, going crazy all the while, holding onto those pieces of our broken heart. Like dead petals of a summer rose, where life has left them, Withered, parched of water and life, we wait another year, in hope for a new bud of life, Desperately we tried, other times we cried, for we knew, These tiny pieces of our heart were gone, wounds exposed, raw with pain, grief and despair, Forwards and backwards we still rock, too and fro we still go. Missing you more than ever in our thoughts everyday. Love you always, looking after mummy and daddy x

£10.00 (+ £2.50 Gift Aid)