That Bloke

The wind rustles through the trees

Along with the soft hum of bees

I sing as I hold his hand

He transports me to a magical land

We laugh, we joke

What a great bloke

But the sun soon begins to set

And I begin to fret

Summer ends

But not without new friends

Winter sets in

While I think of things that could have been

Pain and sorrow nestle in my brain

I am forever treading down that lane

Years go by, 

Without even a "hi"

After a while, 

Another summer rolls by

I see his face, 

As we rush to embrace 

Another summer, alongside him

I live life on a whim

Life is good

As with you it should. 

Author's Note

I originally wrote this on a white board, and then left it for a day and had to decipher most of the poem, but the 5th stanza was completely unreadable, so bear with me.