“It might have been a new way for her heart to beat.”
Philip Pullman
You were with her,
And I was with him
When we met.
We were friends
For years,
Our families shared picnics,
Holiday parties,
And
A fenced back yard.
With him
You shared a love of
Old cars,
With me she shared
A love of
Art, and
Our children were
Nearly inseparable,
We were the best
Of neighbors.
But then I lost him
And you lost her,
And our friendship became
Our comfort,
For the four of us
Shared years of memories.
You loved her
And I loved him,
Neither of us saw the other
As more than
Neighbors and
Friends.
Until the day came
When I looked at you
In a certain way
And you looked back
The same way,
And our friendship
Caught fire.
Now more years
Have passed.
We haven't forgotten them,
We still smile
When we remember
All the things
That made us
Love them;
But now there's Us,
Proving there's room
For love to blossom again
After the original garden
Goes fallow.
A wonderful story poem where familiarity breeds love.
You reminded me of the time my great aunt lost her husband just a couple of years after he retired. She carried on alone. But next door, the chemistry professor who wrote the book and his wife were enjoying their retirement after he replaced his knees. Suddenly, she died.
He started helping my great aunt, and from what I experienced, I believe there was a spark of love between them even when she went to the nursing home and he was there almost every day with her.
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You reminded me of the time my great aunt lost her husband just a couple of years after he retired. She carried on alone. But next door, the chemistry professor who wrote the book and his wife were enjoying their retirement after he replaced his knees. Suddenly, she died.
He started helping my great aunt, and from what I experienced, I believe there was a spark of love between them even when she went to the nursing home and he was there almost every day with her.
Ron