Memories Of Tragic (To Tessa And Isabella) Poem by T. R. Crissian

My dear Tessa and my dear Isabella,
The days are cold and wintry,
I sit by the fire and think of summer days,
When it would rain and we would run outside and get drenched head to toe-
No need for an umbrella-
But now you have moved-
These are now memories of tragic.

We would run down into the woods and play in the creek,
Film dangerous and ridiculous plays,
And inside occasionally play hide-and-go-seek.
These were happy memories-they made me smile-
Now they are memories of tragic.

On a sleepover we would try to put make-up on your brothers,
They would wake up and we would dart out-
Then laugh and giggle-
We failed at being undercover.
These are silly funny things-
But now they are memories of tragic.

A few days before Christmas (as I recall) we helped your mother decorate,
We wound the lights 'round the banister,
And baked mint cookies-
We would film some of and use up all the film canister.
We would laugh as Christmas music would play,
We would dance and sing,
Such wonderful memories!
Now they are memories of tragic.

Now I come to the last-
Do you recall my dear friends the last time I saw you?
It was at church- I was saying goodbye thinking of your favorite color- blue.
I could have run up and given you one last hung- but something held me back-
I tried to fight it but I turned my back.

I wanted to run and hold you and Isabella tight,
But I turned and walked inside-
Sill, I know not why.

If I could change anything-
I would say I love you one more time,
And now i sit here in tears thinking-
Of the memories of tragic.....