Remembering My First Lost Love

Meeting my first lost love came unexpectedly. Although I was young, I still remember him...sadly. Dressed in a dark dress without ribbons or bows, Slowly walking into the room to see my dad's dad, I saw my grandfather for the very first time...dead. He was handsome, like his picture, in a nice suit. He had been out in the world on his own pursuit. Emptiness, not knowing joys consumed me that day. I wondered how it would have been with time to play. His skin, pale and gray, was cold when I kissed him. I wondered if he ever ran to the beach for a swim. Hugs and kisses were never known and no Granddad laugh. The preacher there said a prayer on Grandad's behalf. In the chapel, there were folks I had never met. Back in 1956, I felt my first regret. Many times I thought of him as years passed by. I wonder, would he wipe my tears if I should cry. Or listen to excitement when I learned something new - Long ago, when granddad died, we said adieu. But even now, I think of him with family love And hope we'll have a chat someday near God above. June 7, 2012 Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen Written for Poetry Soupn Member Contest: Remembering a Lost Love Sponsored by: Gail Doyle