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