To you, with love. xxx

Sixth Christmas with your empty chair

Now more salt, less pepper in my hair.

That I’ve been breathing all this time

Still makes no sense, no reason, no rhyme.

Your cat makes all the other felines quake

His sweet name, given by you, is still Milkshake.

The Christmas markets we visited at the Southbank

The doughy sweets we gorged and the German beer we drank.

Those candle stalls and hand-knit shops, I believe are still there

But a visit, I cannot bear.

Ice skating at Somerset house with friends

Merry shopping here and there, for odds and ends.

Cocktails at ‘All bar One’ after work at Waterloo

What I would give to have another one, with you.

Beating the hell out of every one at Ping-pong.

Not many of your moves, slow or wrong.

The years trundle in and roll out like a stream,

I watch and wonder how they could be both,

A nightmare and a dream.  

Standing back, I watch and see.

Trying not to judge. Just be.

There are but three things to know,

To love, to learn and to let go.

To love, to learn and to let go.

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