The Widower's Walk
 
In times gone by he walked with her,
her arm on his made his heart stir
for love was young and life was good,
in times gone by that’s how things were.

He’d turn the clock back if he could
to walk again through autumn’s wood
and linger with her there a while
as others passed them where they stood

He still remembers her sweet smile
the day he walked her down the aisle;
and how he met it with his own
for she made living more worthwhile 

But now he walks these streets alone,
the bitter winds of time have blown,
and left but widowed memories,
seeds she so tenderly had sewn.



may 2005
Janet Reid