memiors of the broken

obituary.

Born and raised in color,
the fruitful lived among the sweetest of berries.

Wilful pride drenched down your shoulders in colorful scarves and burgundy swatches.

You pulled in those around you with
laugher as it rang through the halls of the old house.

Echoing in the rooms of past sleepovers as you blanketed young kin in soft bedded quilts.

Being with you was always a treat.

You always smelt of peach cobbler and your homemade peanut butter cookies.

Every now and then I can still here you calling after me.

"Hey my love..."💕