Amy Louise Learmont 1981 – 2016
Our child was born onto a stony field –
That bears fruit hard enough to blunt a knife.
She crushed those bitter berries, made them yield
A juice that tasted sweet, the wine of life.
The crib was where she first met loss and pain,
That pair who followed up her chain of years.
Our gallant girl showed both a cool disdain;
She shed her light on us and not her tears.
Her loving wit drew hearts into her space.
And spread her laughing kindness everywhere.
Then Amy made her exit with true grace.
When pain came looking – Amy wasn’t there.
And after she has gone we wonder why
That small girl left a gap – wide as the sky.