Oh the times we could have had
I’ve lived them all
Mostly by myself.
Sometimes a little too often
Or so I’ve been told.
Yet, they give me comfort.
Simply moving on is never an option
At least for a mother
And more so in times a father too.
.
Most times
In my imaginings
You are grown
And it is Christmas time
Our favorite time of year
And the fire is blazing
The tea is poured
Our Christmas tree is lit
And warming our hands by the hearth
We sit in silence
Smiling
Remembering all the days that came before.
.
Sometimes a chuckle breaks the silence,
“Remember when …”
And a story begins
No doubt events embellished by the years
All the while sipping our tea
Eating our biscuits
Warming our hands
And living in moments
Never lived.
© 2010, Tim (P) Prendeville
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Posted by tim prendeville on December 22, 2010 at 7:29 am
You’re right Kev … I usually don’t give up the key to a piece, as I think it stands better on its own when someone can read it and relate it to their own life … but just this once I’ll tell you in an email …
love you too
Tim
Posted by Kevin Prendeville on December 22, 2010 at 5:52 am
….Ya that’s nice Tim…I know it defeats the intention of poetry but could you tell me what it is about (and who)….Love ya, Kev….