She was the sparkle

She was the sparkle

In a diamond

The petals of a flower

A shining star

The sweetest kiss

The whisper

In the song of morning.

He was

The glow of the moon

Filtered through

Filigree curtains

The way the pattern

Played over

The contours of his chest

The humour

That danced in his eyes

The promise.

She remembered

The words

The touch of his lips,

Sweet and tender.

The smell of him

His smile.

The cup shook,

Coffee slopping

Into the saucer

As she shuffled

Through the crowd

Using her stick

To fend off

The young things

Who stood between

Her and a seat

By the window

Where she could

Feel his presence

In the warmth

Of the sun.

He was always there,

In the gentleness of it.

Even as the coffee house

Rocked with the noise

Of school run mums

The music

Took her back

Fifty years or more.

To juke box choices,

Mop tops

And wild things.

Amidst so much social change

When working people

Rubbed shoulders

With greatness.

Were innocent times

Ice cream sundaes

Skirts pulled

Up at the waist

To make them shorter,

When she was out of sight

Of her parents.

They would have killed her

Had they known.

She had good legs

He had loved them

It was good to reminisce

From time to time

Listening

To Bob Dylan,

Sipping slowly

From the cup

Enjoying the memory

Welcoming the passing

Of the years

Waiting patiently

For the day to come

When they could dance

Together again

And what a day

That would be,

A time to stay,

Come what may,

Forever young,

Naturally.