Every evening they sit by the lake
remembering those sylvan days
when hand in hand they loved reading William Blake
together.
Recalling how they walked among the lilies,
as their hearts did ache,
thinking that they had only a couple of days
together
before he flew to an alien land to study further
and they could no longer dance and shake
a leg
together.
The wind crooned, softly, ah so softly.
The notes of a song; soft and tender, like a snowflake
laden with memories of yore
drifted towards them,
as they sat hand in hand on the bench by the lake
together.
And those wonderful times,
standing side by side when they loved to bake
together.
Embellishing the home –cooked delicacies
with aromatic spices
and year after year after year
trying to taste the marriage anniversary cake
together.
More than sixty years have passed
but the octogenarians still sit by the lake
holding hands
together.
Their high- powered glasses, perched on their noses,
they still pore over the poems of William Blake
together.
“Piper pipe that song again-“
With quivering voices, they still sing the same refrain
sitting by the lake
together.
The Inevitable waits in the shadows;
watching them closely,
as they sit hand in gnarled hand,
looking at the ducks and the drakes
in the lake
together.
Lovely poem of togetherness. Infact it’s a sweet poem. Nowadays to find lasting relationship is difficult. Seems to be like utopia. Very well written.
Thanks a ton Rashmi Malapur
An enchanting and delightful work,another fine example of this author’s metier.
Thanks a ton Louis Kastakin. I am honored.
Very sweet composition dear Santosh.
Thanks a ton Pramila Khadun
A lovely, touching, endearing narrative.
lovely poem, kudos dear poet
Thanks a ton Abu Siddik