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