by Steve Tanham
On this day
A meagre seven years ago
I woke to find you gone
A day premature
Just the nursing angel in your hand
The phone receiver in mine
△
Now, at these times
I picture you in your old shop
Happy to leave your kitchen
For shop’s bell, whose call
To seek but not always to find
Mattered little, but sharing chat did
Then, happier, returning to your TV
△
On these days
I miss you most
The simple routine of your day
Grown golden in my mind
Only seven years ago
And a million miles away
△
©Copyright Stephen Tanham
Sun in Gemini 
I loved this Steve.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Pensivity. In memory of my father who died in 2011.
LikeLike
Close to my heart having lost Mum last month and Dad in 1996. Our memories never die, and I am blessed with so many.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
A fine example of that light we carry, so that it won’t go out.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Ken.
LikeLiked by 1 person
A lovely tribute ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Alethea 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very moving, Steve.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Michael. February always brings back the memory…
LikeLike
Yes, February for me too.
LikeLiked by 1 person
A moment’s shared silence, then. And a thank you for their lives.
LikeLike
Reblogged this on Stuart France.
LikeLike
Pingback: On these days… Steve Tanham | Sue Vincent's Daily Echo
💜
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Willow.
LikeLike
Tender observations and reminiscences, beautiful, Steve.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Eliza. February always brings it back…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lovely work. I think a lot of poets try to force ‘pretty’ language into their work and it often ends up coming off purple. This is powerful, emotive simple language and works great.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. That’s lovely.
LikeLike