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I knew an old wise Angel
Who was generous with his’ time
He could make anyone feel special
Until the stairway to heaven he did climb

He took me to my first confession
And had my rosary beads blessed
He introduced me to religion
And finding my faith became my quest

He told me the most wondrous stories
And had the wildest imagination
His stories still live in my memories
Cos we were characters in his creation

His lap was where we’d love to sit
He made us feel at home
Loving vibes he did emit
Love, the reason I wrote this poem

His name was Spencer Gagan
He was my Great Grandfather
A wonderful Christian, a great man
To me there was no other

He did what he could for everyone
And received nothing in return
Even his partner, and Peter, her son
Took him for granted without concern

He loved Peter like his own
Taking the place of his Dad
But when Peter was nearly grown
They up and left him alone, sad

He lived many hours away
So I treasured the time we spent
When he’d stay at Nan’s for a holiday
Until back home he went

He became ill and placed in a hostel
Where I think he was alone quite a lot
I’m not sure if he was cared for well
I hated the place, it was a depressing spot

We knew he wouldn’t last much longer
We would visit every second Sunday
His spirit weakened, where it used to be stronger
I would hold him tight, not knowing what to say

The last time I saw him, we held each others’ hand
He went to say my name but stopped
His memory disappearing like the sifting sand
My heart filled with sadness, just popped

Then a week or so later, while lying in bed
I awoke in early hours of the morning
To my Great Grandfather gently stroking my head
He had come to give me a warning

He had just passed and was on his way
He comforted me as I lay crying
He told me he wished he could stay
But the time had come, there was no compromising

He said so much but spoke not a word
And I understood the silence
Our bond grew stronger, my emotions stirred
As I witnessed his spirits disappearance

I woke my Sister to tell her what I knew
Tears falling from my eyes
The phone started ringing out of the blue
To inform Mum of Great Grandfathers’ demise.
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©copyright Juanita Torr
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