THE EMPTY CHAIR

THE EMPTY CHAIR

Your chair remains beside the fire,
Where evening shadows fall,
I sometimes hear you say my name,
But no one speaks at all.

The cushion holds a faded shape,
Your blanket touches ground,
I close my eyes and wait for you,
But death makes not a sound.

Your cup is in the cupboard still,
The one with roses blue,
I cannot bear to move a thing,
That once belonged to you.

The fire grows weak without your hands,
The room has lost its glow,
I never knew an empty chair,
Could hurt a person so.

I tell you everything I did,
And what has filled my day,
Then realise halfway through,
You cannot answer anyway.

I hear your laughter in the hall,
Your key inside the door,
My foolish heart goes running out,
To lose you once more.

The flowers slowly bow their heads,
Your photograph turns pale,
I read the final note you wrote,
Until my fingers fail.

You promised you would wait for me,
Somewhere beyond the blue,
But Heaven feels a long way off,
When I am missing you.

Tonight I touched your empty chair,
And whispered, Please come home,
The darkness wrapped around my heart,
And left me there alone.

One day my chair will empty too,
And time will disappear,
Perhaps we’ll sit together then,
Without another tear.