But…it’s The Thought Poem by Charl JF Cilliers

My husband’s thoughtfulness,
like cufflinks and a tie,
was a kind of fancy dress:

as when the gifts he thought to buy
me (not for Christmas, birthday or an anniversary,
but spontaneously) he never quite
got round to (shops shut
for stocktaking one day; another, the normally light
traffic snarled up tight) . But…

…strange how, years afterwards, the heart can soften,
thinking of how often he said he thought of me:
the gifts, though never bought, so frequently
are here still in thought to keep me company.