Being There

The fireside chair sits empty,

I hear no more your song.

Each summer day is stagnant;

Each night is cold and long.

I have no arm to lean on

The way I leaned on you;

And no more funny stories;

Who would I tell them to.

God knows how much I miss you

The love light in your face

The sounds of your night music

The warmth of your embrace

But this is my endeavour

These memories we share

A lifetime full of treasures

Thank you for being there.