Teacups And TearsA Poem by GeeAn oldie given an airing
Time, the great healer had done no such thing.
His home had become a shrine, her photos adorning walls and every dust covered surface. He celebrated birthdays, anniversaries, with her memory, a table for two in their favourite restaurant, two glasses of red poured. Waiters would ask as to his partners arrival, he would smile, continue his conversation oblivious to the stares. Back home he would comfy himself, feet warm in slippers, slippers that sat nestled aside hers when not worn, these beneath her summer coat in the hallway. With a whisky in hand he would pore over letters, albums, watch, re watch, over and over badly shot film, weddings, birthdays, Christmas'. Always there was laughter, a smile on her face. When wearied he would kiss goodnight her wedding day face, tell her that he loved her, would see her in the morning. In the kitchen two teacups, side by side, sat readied for breakfast. © 2023 GeeReviews
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Added on November 3, 2017Last Updated on January 21, 2023 Tags: Eternal love AuthorGeeMilton keynes, United KingdomAboutDevoted family man and lover of life. Simply written, easily understood "stuff" for those without code breaking skills. You will NEVER need Google to understand me:) more..Writing
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