Inspired by a poem in Polish: Stara Milosc, after sculpture by Bozena Happach

I sat on a bench. I was quite alone.
I sat there every day; from early morn
staring into the distance. Gazing into my past.
Anxious memories oft befell me...

Suddenly he was there. Stooping, as he did always
when he sat next to me. So often.
His hand rests gently on my willing thigh.
I can hear his soft whisper... my eyes search his face…

And once more I am happy. Even if it’s but a wondrous illusion...
if it’s only my faith in his steadfast assurance
that he will never leave me. That he will always be here.
Forever... my husband, my love, my endeavour...