Some Little Thoughts

She is not gone: She is here
Among the flowers that brighten up the room.
She is walking with me in the sunlight,
In an autumn’s noon, on winter’s fresh snow
And, in early spring, as the rain
Taps on my windowpane. We walked, always, hand in hand:
Dreams of what the future would bring.
She held me tightly to her waist;
Never shall I forget: My dear, ever near. 

On summers’ afternoons, in Hyde Park, we strolled
To watch the little birds at play
While young lovers, dotted the lawns,
Freshly mowed that day. It was as though
They owned the gassy banks, now their beds
The soft grass, the pillow for their heads. And, then,
To The Corner House, slowly, we ambled;
No need to hurry for time, eternal, was ours to enjoy
That vision to hold forever: Lovers to behold. 

Sometimes, now, in the stillness of the night,
Looking at the moon, high in a greyish sky,
Its refraction, causing broken imagery on The Thames,
Inwardly, I cry. I can never forget those magical years
When love was all, and all was she:
My lover for eternity. Without fear,
We thought only of the morrow, and coming morrows.
Wait! I sense her hand in mine; my heartbeat quickens.
She is not gone! I see: That blessed sight!