Lettice Crawford
The Poetry
Collection
A curated treasury of verses exploring love and the quiet spaces in between. Discover the debut poetry collection by Lettice Crawford.
Grief Itself Can Be Medicine
Grief itself can be medicine
Not like in a jar that you just open and take a sip
But it’s deep, deep in your heart
I can feel him on my tongue
I can taste him on my lip
See my hubby past in January 2024
It wasn’t in my plan when death opened the door
But when I realized my grief was medicine
It begged me to choose more
I look back on memories where he made me laugh
and crack my side
It was funny ‘cause it was just him, he didn’t have to try
I loooved when he got the grill out
He was the head chef and I was his sous
With his spatula and grill pad, he just knew what to do
So now I’m a single, not a wife or a boo
Many days I’ve sat wondering, “Lord,
what now do I do?”
So I wrote a book,“Journey of a Godly Wife”
Sharing how God changed me from the inside
‘cause I caused much of my own strife
So now I’m here confessing,
Learning a lesson,
And hopefully sharing a blessing
So someone here can know that grief can be medicine
When you Allow God
AND
Let Go!
HIM and him (my spirit vs my flesh)
He finds me again at 2am laying in the covers half awake, half asleep
he is running through my head once again, the one whose presence I should not keep
it’s making me feel less than because I miss him so much
I miss him touching his lips to mine
I miss his special caressing touch
Yet He who loves me truly with
His unfailing love
gently washes my tears and
fills my heart from above
saying “Daughter, my Spirit is with you always, so give your whole heart to me”
I hear Him clearly, but somewhere in my soul, I just won’t let it be.
My flesh is clinging to him like bark to a tree.
I feel me sleeping in his arms and him holding me so tight.
Loving me in that moment with all of his might.
I receive him, his kindness seeping through me
until my body ready to burst free.
Yet this night, realizing I’m imprisoned as his touch has a hold
of me.
Reminiscing on what I called those sweet, sweet memories…..
Like an addict…….
seeking to use despite adverse consequences,
Yet I can be treated
by not just reading His Word
but actively living it out,
‘cause I definitely need it.
Now I have to get my mind right,
Have it renewed in Him
for He’s the one who cleanses me afresh, a new life to begin
for I supposedly given up
a life full of sexual sin
This struggle of my flesh and soul continues until I say,
Lord I commit my spirit unto you this day.
I submit my body, my mind, and my soul completely to you,
so come on Holy Spirit, I surrender to you too
yet, here I am on night two,
he is running through my head again,
after I have given myself to You!
This confusion enjoyed by the enemy
Is not what should be in the inner me,
Lord, I’m here again surrendering “my All” to thee
Yes, Lord, I’m here again surrendering “my All” to thee
A Note from Lettice
The Quiet Rhythm of Creation
Poetry, for me, has always been a way to map the invisible landscapes of the soul. This collection was born from quiet mornings under the old oak tree and starlit walks on the edge of the shore. I hope these words find a resonance in your own journey, whispering truths you've always known but perhaps never named.