Remembering last Christmas; the last time we saw you smile. You seemed yourself that afternoon; just for a little while. At 4 o’clock or thereabouts you turned back to your bed; And that was it... you were so ill; Our hearts were filled with dread. ‘COPD’ the doctor said, ‘is like a tightrope line. One day your dad seems very ill, The next he will seem fine!’ You wobbled back onto your wire; We hoped against all hope... But time was short, you left us Dad. We wondered how to cope! And so the time runs on and on. Can it really be a year? A whole year since we saw your smile; And had your presence near?