OUR LOSS CAN NEVER BE FOUND
Life lines mapped with blackened ink
Her brief time gone in a single blink
The hand of our Molly recorded on card
She left our world, this has been hard
Knowing our loss can never be found
When the print of her hand is left above ground
A symbol of sorrow, as we are bereft
Three years gone, an inconceivable theft
Her hand now holding a thousand hearts that rock
An army of hands now printed on cloth.
Her body has flown, her spirit abounds
She came through us both without making a sound
To show us all in her own special way
That anything lost will be found some other day.
By Claire Mear
12th August 2016
Brian & Claire Mear pride themselves on putting on a good show. Photography is Claires passion, only the finest collection of images will be added here by the best photographers. We both hope you enjoy the show.