Always Remembering Renesmee
I felt her like a bag of tricks
One perfect somersaulting laugh
I marvelled as her tiny heart
Beat in an imaginary photograph
I knew soon she would appear
She would have been not my flesh or my blood
But my baby daughter yet to be...
I never got to hear her cry
Or write her a lullaby
I had to make a choice,
My baby or my Bella...
Her absence feels like a solid oak
The 'might have beens' its fragile leaves
Which tumble gently to the ground
Always remembering Renesmee
I hope you liked this as it almost made me cry
