Our Bench.

 

I sit on the bench we sat on.

On our treasured weekly walk.

I sit alone at one with nature.

As always it is to you, I talk.

 

I remember the dreams we had.

Sitting lovingly hand in hand.

Together with you by my side.

We would find the promised land.

 

It delivers to us peace and love.

Filling both our hearts with joy.

On the deliverance of these gifts.

We would not ask for anymore.

 

The sea we used to gaze out at.

Gracefully flows in front of me.

The scent of nature in the air.

Reliving those wonderful memories.

 

The evening slowly starts to appear.

I imagine you are sitting here.

I hear the tones of your Angel voice.

That bring about a little cheer.

 

It is getting cold, dark and late.

Time for to make my way back home.

I will always continue to talk to you.

Even when at home and sit alone.

 

Nataiella 2020. ( recently listed Pressure of Christmas).