Honeysuckle Moments Poem by Bill Smith

Honeysuckle Moments

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In the future they will think me mad
Each time I think of you
My lips will bend at your memory
Reminders of you will follow me to the end of my days
Church bells on a wedding day will bring forth your laughter
The morning sun your smile

I can see them now shaking their heads as I ride the past
For they will have no idea that you are gone
And I, alone though not lonely,
Still have you
Invisible at my side
Smiling at every memory
Cheating time of its victory
All the simple things we shared
Will fall through the years to the present
Evenings spent in our first garden
The air heavy with the scent of Honeysuckle
With every hum of a Blue Bottle I will hear your shout
Smile as I picture you swatting to and fro
Hear your whoop of victory and your groan of despair
as the phoenix rose from the ashes
My heart will jump as I see your face
Your lovely face, clear, so clear
Stood at my shoulder in the mirror

They will think me mad as I speak your name
As surely I will
Reaching out across an empty table to take your hand
Sure that you are there
Only for you to fade, fade from my eyes
And I will smile
Smile for myself and for you

Come winter
The first snowfall, I will remember
remember our first winter
Walking in the fresh crisp snow
You falling, pulling me down
How wide will be my smile?
Remembering our lips meeting
Eyes wide open
Our bodies impervious to the cold
You, held in my arms
Me, sinking into your beautiful green eyes
And I will cry

Not for the past
but for the stolen now
All the things that will never be
The dreams never to be realised
Further simple things we should have shared
But no
You are gone, there will be no more
No more Honeysuckle moments

Christine Austin Cole 22 May 2008

This is so lovingly conveyed that it absolutely tugs at the reader. Anyone that is living with 'stolen now's will undoubtedly be incredibly moved by this - and anyone that is fortunate enough to find themself unable to fully relate to this, will most likely be terrified of the possibility of one day being able to. I know I am. There is an ridiculously fine line between love and madness, I think... if there is even one at all, really. If anyone does think you mad, Bill... I'd just guess it means they've not been so blessed. Christine

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Original Unknown Girl 14 January 2008

Sigh.... what a gorgeous, poignant and romantic poem. I feel your pain in this one Bill, it's palpable.. HG: -) xx

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Lynda Robson 04 July 2006

Bill, what a lovely heartfelt poem, so poignant I hope these memories are always precious to you Best Wishes Lynda xx

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