THE EMPTY PLACE
Clarity of thought, of memory, of will,
Warms the heart from the wintry chill,
Then set the festive dinner table,
One place, solitary, no label.
For there should sit in the family
group,
The one to complete the genetic loop.
Yet absence from this place again,
The toast, then tears, memory, pain -
Thirty-five years have coldly gone,
Since the seat was last taken on.
So why the need for this pretence?
Prolonging the agonising absence.
Of course, we know, we care, we love,
Our beloved one in His care above.
The loss, the death, so cruelly fated -
Earthly life now celebrated.