She is always on my mind
For she was a part of me
I would be dishonoured
If I were to think of her
Just one day of the year
It's not the photographs
That box of mementoes
Or the hospital tag
No, it more than that
It's the tea pot she bought
It is laughing in the rain
It is kissing her nose
A walk in the forest
Bathing in the nude
On a deserted beach
She did say to me once
"You will marry again"
But I won't, why should I?
She is still with me now
Knitting needles clicking
I put the kettle on
I know she in not here
The coffee just for me
It's still the same brand though
After all these long years
Image of my wife's favorite place "Frensham Little Pond" found at www.farnham.gov.uk
Such beautiful romanticism...
ReplyDeleteOh Robin, this brought tears to my eyes. Such a beautiful, beautiful tribute!❤️
ReplyDeleteThe last line is very poignant Robin. I can actually hear the sighs of the kettle
ReplyDeleteI inhale your poem. It is so sweet, painful, joyful and true.
ReplyDeleteYou do it each time Robin, and so easily.. so much sweetness and love.
ReplyDeleteTerribly sad.
ReplyDelete"The coffee just for me
ReplyDeleteIt's still the same brand though
After all these long years"
Just the sweetest of lines in this sad repast, Robin
much love...
This is incredibly sweet. Yes, she is with you always. I, too, can hear the kettle. A poem of pure love, and the sweetness of remembering - joy.
ReplyDeleteSad and poignantly remembered but still remembered through little episodes shared together before
ReplyDeleteHank
I think this is now my favorite of yours. The grief is so pure. It's a perfect remnant of your love.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, but haunting. Such a loss.
ReplyDeleteHaunting and beautiful.
ReplyDeletethe loss is so haunting but a lovely tribute to her
ReplyDeletesweet, romantic, beautiful and deeply moving...
ReplyDeleteVery moving I tearing now A beautiful ode to love
ReplyDeleteSomeone somewhere beyond the veil is appreciating this tribute, with a tear in her eye...
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful, wistful, immensely loving remembrance in this poem, Robin! No flowers at a graveside match the emotions expressed in this!
ReplyDelete