When grief stole my Christmas,
and the lights from the tree.
It also took away
the light that shone in me.
It stole the season’s greetings
written on every card.
It dried up all my words,
making communicating hard.
It stole every bauble I had hung
and left my branches bare.
The thing is though, if I’m honest,
I didn’t really care.
Grief didn’t just steal my Christmas
It had also taken me.
It left a shell of a person.
I forget who I used to be.
Until one day I was out walking,
and there sitting in a tree,
was the most beautiful robin
staring down at me.
Those bare branches came to life.
It shone the colour red.
A reflection of its breast,
sent memories to my head.
With the flutter of its wings,
my heart too began to flutter.
and then it sang a tune
and with that I had to stutter.
The words of Christmas carols
had found their voice again.
The glitter that was stolen
now fell down with the rain.
I couldn’t wait to get home.
I knew grief would still be there,
but it never did steal my memories.
I was just afraid to meet you there.
By Joanne Boyle – Heartfelt
