By Linda Donaldson (aged 10)
In Grandpa’s garden there was a swing,
And on it I did sit and sing.
About the big apple tree,
Laden with fruit so pleasant to see;
And brightly coloured roses and asters, pretty to me.
The garden was wonderful.
We always said – “can we have some flowers please?”
There were tomatoes and sweetcorn lovely in the breeze,
Also some tall proud sweetpeas.
I’ll always remember happy times there in the lovely big garden that Grandpa loved dear.
Dedicated to my Grandpa, Ernest Mourant
This poem was generously shared with Go With Grace, as part of Dying Matters Week 2024. Thank you so much for sharing your beautiful words.
