Remember that day with us at the park,
When you bought me ice cream
And I traced our initials on tree bark?
Curled up on a tartan blanket, we schemed
Immortal pirates plotting timeless treasure map.
But all was not what it would seem;
The clock ticked on like a timed trap.
You sighed as you laid your head on my lap
Musing on sunlight stealing through leaves on my smile,
Our music the sound of children laughter on a rattletrap.
Your kisses and touch chaste all the while.
The hours languidly flowed into time.
That day is gone but you are still mine.
Little girls in summer white dresses–
Fairies at play in bright light of noon—
Soapy bubbles float to pop on sunglasses,
as I sit in the garden where turtle doves croon.
Too many years wasted cutting back weeds–
Investing my time tilling good soil into poor dirt–
bearing insult as birds pecked new seeds–
avoiding wasp sting through my thin shirt.
Peace now though the dog still barks in his kennel;
but he is nothing to think about now.
I am safe amid chrysanthemum and fennel;
He is old and leaving me, anyhow.
Soon, I will be like my fairies that play
with no other thought than to blow my bubbles far away.
By A.E. Wallace
Old Ollerton, Nottinghamshire at the teahouse