Poem Hour One

Dee

Dee she was, never Doris.
Rarely mum or grandma.
Just Dee – no just about her.
Short, but not a risk you would overlook her.
Glamorous and strong, fiery and fierce,
Right up to the age of 96.

Family by blood or not,
Once in you stayed,
But you had better behave,
No fools suffered here,
Her memory almost as long
As her rich, full life.

A teacher always,
Science a passion,
Art, music, food she loved,
But books her weapon of choice –
To read, to teach, and then
To publish.

Headstrong to the end,
Centre of any room.
Her presence larger than she was,
She would receive visitors majestically –
When appearing with gifts
Of coffee, whisky, cake.

Her long reign now over,
A gap in our hearts and life,
For Doris, Dee,
Sister, wife, mother, aunt,
Grandmother, great-grandmother,
Great aunt.

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