Dedicated to the memory of Sylvia Bissett

This site is a tribute to Sylvia Bissett. She is much loved and will always be remembered.

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Thoughts

Where there was need she would care No matter whom, or what, or where She'd give her time just to be there She'd knit with a needle that was almost a wand, Season dishes that were never 'blond' Cast no contempt and hurt no-one Only if too much drinking was done (and he did) Would she smile and admonish with 'stoopid" But this evil demon craves the guiltless soul And for that journey it demands its toll: A plaything, a puppet that it can control Creeping at first like a thief at night Slowly turning out the light So wandering lost in a strange hotel Not much to see, not much to tell Except to say she was not feeling very well 'Till mocking every face of joy It took her like a Halloween toy Stole all her life, stained all who'd care Spread its heartbreak, and despair. Torment, loneliness and shame No words have been forged that can explain His burden, sacrifice and pain But it did not win, for at the end Though no passage of time could mend At last her love defied its touch Dragged her soul from that vile clutch And then love poured back into her eyes As she held his hand to say goodbye.
22nd January 2024
Thank you for setting up this memorial to Sylvia. We hope that you find it a positive experience developing the site and that it becomes a place of comfort and inspiration for you to visit whenever you want or need to.
Sent by W. Smith & Sons, Bournemouth on 17/01/2024
I am I and you are you, whatever we were to each other that we still are. Speak to me in the easy way which you always used. Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? Life means all that it ever meant, it is the same as it ever was.
Extract from a poem by Henry Scott Holland
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