I think it's right to say so - just as long as it is true.
Which some return (though others, I suspect, it slightly bugs)īut, if you love a person, as Our Saviour taught us to, I always close my comments to my faves: "With love and hugs" Too late, in any way then, feelings to communicateĪnd so, I say each day as long as I am given life,Īs well as in the evening: "I love you" to my wife. I find such reticence, now he's gone too, extremely sad.įor most of us, to lose our partner suddenly, we'd hate.
"I love you" to his wife until she'd, sadly, passed away.Īlthough I know they both a fairly happy marriage had, Many regrets, a page quickly turned, this book of our lives,Īn unknown hand shall turn that final page, my story then ends.Ī friend once told me he could never bring himself to say: How shall I be remembered? I hope with kindly thoughts The pet dogs, how they ran, chasing balls around pathwaysĬhildhood friends, their games, sometimes fights, lots of funĪ book of memories nearing the end, it's final chapters, On hot days we pumped water, beautiful, crystal clear, icy cold. That wonderful plum sauce, and delicious plump, blue plums we ate.Ī tall steel windmill stood at one end of the garden, The Garden my Mother loved is long gone, even the old plum tree, I know he was softly spoken, a gentle man, very hard worker. Why, why didn't I tell, say, to him in words, how much I loved him. Tears of nameless grief, when my Father suddenly died. Stolen kisses, beneath those sheltering coniferous trees To hear those lost voices, whispering pine needles answer. I see their the faces, know there is much laughter,īut all is silent, dead silence, I want to recall, remember, Memory comes to mind, as pages from a book. My brothers played, enjoyed hours of fun, inĪ cubby house, built mid stout, strong brown limbs On blowy, wintery days, they sound as the sea I view the massive, towering old pine trees,
In the garden, where as a child, I played,