If you read between the lines, |
A little old man
hobbles down the walk,
His limp is at
an even pace
as he turns to wave
a last goodbye.
His grandaughter`s kiss
still fresh on his face
his bottle partly full
is open
as he drinks.
His grandaughter sadly
sits down and cries
at what her grandpappy`s
become.
Says he`s still young
but is forty years older.
The wrinkles keep coming
as the years pass by.
The little old man walks
through the park...
The little kids sneer
and try to grab his cane
that holds him
steadily up.
He knows so much
of how he`s changed
as he holds his bottle
closely and
takes another sip.
It comforts his
old bones and leaves
his stomach at ease...
As he stumbles towards
his front door
he finds the door closed.
It used to be open
with a welcome behind...
He shakily opens the door.
His hand moves away from
the rustic old knob.
He still awaits the kiss
he seems not to find.
He stares at the photo
and touches the face.
The old warn photograph,
he sets on the nightstand.
His bottle is right beside
as he lies down,closes
his eyes and slowly drifts
away...
And the phone
keeps on ringing
in the hall...
~*Saundra*~
The first day I saw you, the first day our eyes met, It was to be cherished and still...
I think about our first kiss, our first handhold. The night you dumped me in the snow...
Our first walk together... The first time I took your face in my hands, your care in my world.
The first time you held me close, the first time we said we loved each other and to hold our promises with truth.
The first time we hurt each other, the first time we broke up, kissed and made up.
All the memories we`ve got, Let`s hold them together with... All our first times...
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