Photo by Cristina Gottardi on Unsplash
As I walk our path, for times of old
Instinct protects you from the cold
My arm out reached, finds no one there
My body’s warmth, I cannot share
For our love, my fire burns
Yet for your touch, my heart still yearns
With a quiet smile, I see your eyes
To your memory, does my sadness rise
As I find your spot, atop the hill
Our farewell place, the air is still
Our beloved dream, no longer grows
So for our love, I plant a Rose
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Ben Parry
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