Midnight Memories

For the woman who put up with me, and who made my life a constant joy. She's gone now, except she is, and always will, be with me.

Midnight Memories

Last night, late, when I slipped into bed�"even though I knew you weren’t there

I reached out to touch you, and assure myself that you were safe, and close

To enjoy the peace that only your skin against mine could bring.

But the emptiness where you should be brought no comfort.

 

I should have closed my eyes, to be with you in dreams.

But as so often happens I found more comfort in thoughts of you than in slumber.

Memories presented themselves, one-by-one, of nights in shared embrace

Of you held close, in sleep and in waking�"so soft, so gentle, and such a source of peace.

Sense-memory came, of your response to my lips and my touch.

To remind me of how you melted so softly against me that we were one in spirit.

 

In my recollection you turn to me, your bed-warmed skin against mine.

Peace and joy flood through me in what surely must be a dream:

Your skin so fiery that it must char flesh, yet, astoundingly, brings only contentment.

 

You are no dream, though. You are love, personified.

And you are missed…so deeply missed.

Because without you...I am incomplete.

 

Author's Note

A woman liked by everyone she met, she put up with me for 52 years, before being cruelly taken, from family, and from those, unmet, who would have loved her, too.