A time to be grateful for what was,
To say what went unsaid
And hold close those you love
That’s what a funeral is for
She’s already found peace in the
Place reserved for her
Free of every earthly hardship
An unmarked emptiness in need of signage.
Where are the big red letter signs Left Home
In the estate agents’ catalogues?
One embrace, one cooked dinner, one pair of apron strings, all to let.
One flown nest, not the same, semi-detached, open for lease.
On a Sunday morning we met, flowers in hands, ready.
His eyes wide open, sweet smile.
Oh, those early stages.
From kisses under the streetlights
To long night talks, “us” was all we needed.
Try to fall in love, I once heard a film star say,
But only with the kind of love that’s peculiar in a way.
Spend time searching high and low, next to no time to delay,
For true love never lingers; ready to lead your heart astray.