The Empty Chair Poem by John Carter Brown

My eyes draw in the splendour,
There's beauty all around;
The gentle hush - The snowdrops
In both the sky and ground.

The seasonal returning
Of cold and crispy hoar;
The telling, by the hearthside,
Of ancient tales of lore.

The conifers still keeping
Their green, now skimmed with white;
The hibernating hedgehog
In his leafy nest, curled tight.

The children out a' playing,
Happy chatter on their sledge;
It seems a dozen seasons since
The Robin's chicks did fledge.

And still the snow comes trickling down
In mesmerising trails;
Six-sided flakes of frostiness,
Released from cloudy jails.

I sit and ponder all these things,
Then spy the empty chair;
And wish my darling friend was here -
These things, with me, to share.

(Written Jan 2013)