he gave me a ring just because 
he knew that i liked jewellery,
this little grandson of mine 
when he was only four

marching his mum right
to a shop to spend his very own
pocket-money saved on something
i would love before my arrival. 

insisting that they come inside 
the airport to collect me,
not just wait by curb outside,
he handed me his precious 

gift before even giving 
a hug. ‘this is for you!’
and my heart exploded in a
thousand little pieces 

of joy, much like the feeling of
holding him for the very first time.
and i forced it on my finger vowing 
to leave it there—until it broke

after only a couple of days
and i had to make excuses the rest
of my visit about how i was keeping
it safe so i could show his grandad 

and uncles when i went home, still
telling him i loved it every time.
when i asked six months ago 
if he remembered buying me 

a special ring, he didn’t. i suspected by 
then he wouldn’t, but that’s just fine 
because i still have that ring tucked up 
in my jewellery box

the one his mother gave me with
my initials etched on the latch.
and there it will remain
as long as i’m alive.

heather pound 2025