Little rain drops whip on the whitewashed walls and kitchen windows
Where I sit alone on the shaky wooden table where fables and stories
Unfurled from your words and our world was entwined, a young child
Who smiled at the jokes you told.

I'm just about to visit your ward, miracles Lord, miracles,
Lord, please give us some more time, the spiritual thoughts
Of my mother reside inside of my heart while I try to find
Some words before you depart to summarise the binds and bonds,
We shared in your life upon this earth.

Grandfather your worth I immerse in this verse I rehearsed
In the waiting weeks for the worst, for you gave me the words
Which I work and weave into each breath that I breathe
Still can't believe how quickly we grieve, seems a dream
That only last month are hands shook and you danced up
And down the garden kicking a rolled up pair of socks,
Now you'll go where I'm not and I know your scared,

Calling out for your brother in the night, we throw the prayers
Skywards, looking in your eyes which cry silent
When you read the words I write before your failing sight
And the world pales to white.
I don't know how to say goodbye,
I don't know how to save a life,
I don't know how to save your wife,
So I wake in the night in cold sweats and shaking with fright
Already thinking which phrase to recite
At your funeral, soon you will be my happy memories,
Teacher who was sent to me, with the wisdom of centuries
How could you be meant to leave, and mentally we're broken
Soaking in these elegies my pen strokes that when spoken
Open wounds to one day close them.

Remember we would cycle on the hill sides,
With the wind in our eyes, what a thrill ride,
Instilled pride to your grand kids, visit my school
Taught lessons in your languish, a blessing that the anguish
Was vanquished for so long, now so long and farewell
Don't fare well for words, now your welfare is worse
And we watch the nurse... tell comforting lies,
Try to cushion demise, blood rushing inside
And gushing from cancerous cells, a man who was hailed
Strong and alive, dying next to me while the song that I write
You will never read, I pray you that you rest in peace,
And the pain that kept you leaves and your son Sean,
Again you will meet. The rain beats on the street
You are able to see, I wish the sun would shine
And the grey would fade and retreat so light
Would arrive and stay to complete the cycle of life,
You're painfully weak, and in pain that we see
What we have to see, but it's okay I'm here to the last my friend

We laughed with friends in the living room of my student house
Last year, while you hovered round and joked at the mess,
I still hoped for the best, not knowing you'd be slowing
Till they opened your chest and pressed pressure
To coax out your breath, I'm broke and depressed,
Lonely and stressed, same old clothes that I dress
With the scent of ward 17, I never dreamed I'd ever see
Scenes like these.

Breaks my heart to hear saying that you'll go home
To a farm, in Ireland where you spent your childhood,
Fishing in seas, so cold that your fingers would freeze
In the whistling breeze, and the grass rich and green
WIth the sky dipped in the sheen of bright blue,
I try to live in this dream but all I see is clinically clean
Drips and beakers, uniforms and nervous speakers
So I close my eyes, and I close my ears.

I see you on a beach with old jeans rolled to the knees
While the warm water flows to your feet,
Over the worn golden soul then goes in retreat,
Leaving the foam combing driftwood and white sand.
Your slight hands opened to a palm and wave like the ocean
Eyes bright with excitement, and quiet emotion
Devotion to the next stage, so when the boat comes…
You wade waist deep and climb in, say goodbye then
Head to the horizon, wind in the sails, you sail
From land farther. Safe journey, my beloved Grandfather.