I remember
the day we met last;
seems like here and now,
though a thing of the past.
I can still feel
your palms over mine,
those futile efforts at palmistry,
that corny pick-up line.
Can still smell
the lunch we shared.
Over coffee and burgers,
not a subject we’d spared.
I still dream
about that perfect day;
a nip in the air made you offer me
your jacket in that offhand way.
I cherish
your smile, your laugh, your chivalry;
in my heart they ever stay–
your jokes, your compliments, your gallantry.
I imagine
how it would be
if we were together–
just you and me.



Filed under Poetry

2 responses to “Imagine

  1. I know that recurring, haunting, whimsical musing myself and you have described it clearly in this lovely anamnesis of a man who will never know that it was written. But it’s not love’s labour lost because I have enjoyed it immensely and so too will others. I like the simple little things that you point out with your senses, like the tactility of pressing hands, the aroma of a shared meal and the chilled air, all melded into the memory in your usual lovely style. Very well done.

  2. Thank you Mike, and can I just say, without meaning any offence, that I love you! 🙂

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