5 years ago it didn't seem as cold as this.
But, then her heart was warm and she would make this house a happy place to be.
Where once the hosta's would unfold,
the garden weeds exert their stranglehold.
The lawn is sodden wet, the cotoneaster has shed its showy berries, it's boughs are bare, so barren to behold.
The dying and the dead surround me here,
till in the spring the flowers re-appear.
In all their glory as they do each year,
to bring happiness and bring us cheer.
But, still I mourn in this February chill,
for she will not come back and never will.
MAYBE ---
" Tis better to have loved and lost,
than never to have loved at all "
Tennyson.
Colin
14/02/2025
