Meet Me In The Garden

Teacups tipped,

Saucer ever so slightly chipped.

Your tea so daintily sipped.

Tea parties with you were always a favorite past time.

~

In those days when I was still yours

And you were still mine.

Now I find myself here

All alone, oft-confused.

Where are you, Dear?

Are you anywhere near?

~

Adjusting my hat, with its moth-eaten lace

It hangs rather limply, covering half of my face.

Grasping onto the pearl rope at my neck,

I hold back the tears like I hold onto hope.

Will this new day find you here?

Is that your step along the cobblestone path, I hear?

~

Such a lovely day here in our garden, you know.

The tulips have risen,

In all your favorite hues.

It has been weeks now since they made their grand debut.

~

Yet you have not come by?

Year after year, you would light up at this news…

When spring comes along,

The birds burst out in spontaneous song.

Yet you have not come by…

Where are you, my love?

~

I gaze at the gate and wait for you to walk through

With a smile on your face,

Always so full of love.

Demeanor full of grace.

I miss you so.

More than words can convey.

~

At times it all swirls together, you know?

Your face as an innocent young child, a blossoming teen, an adult, then an elder…

Well, sometimes it is all so hard to remember.

What age are we now?

Is this then, and I have merely dreamed of the future?

~

Oh, I wish it were so!

Yet the roping blue now clearly visible in these old hands tells me those days are long since passed.

Sometimes I can no longer recall.

At others, they come rushing back and I delight in them all.

~

All I know is that you have always been my kindred spirit,

The gentle beat of my heart,

My calm in any storm.

So, I will continue to keep your tea warm,

For just as long as I can.

~

Although the doctor tells me it will not be long now.

My time on this plane is quickly running out.

Still, I will wait for you like I always have.

Hoping that someday soon you will return

And we will see each other again.

That you will take my hand in yours and tell me there is nothing to fear in the end.

~

Share one final tea party with me.

Will you please?

I’ll set out your favorite biscuits tomorrow morn’.

The sunny little lemon ones you are so fond of!

Oh, if only you could come back,

I would not feel so forlorn.

~

Alas, I have just recalled in an all too rare moment of clarity,

You are gone away.

’Tis no wonder that my letters have gone unanswered.

I now recall standing at your graveside.

Three years, in May, if I remember correctly.

How could I have forgotten such a thing?

What a way to go… losing one’s mind long before their body is ready to retire.

~

Well, my final hope remains…

Will you join me here in our garden?

For one final tea party?

Absolve me of these fears,

Hold my hand,

Keep me steady.

If you are here with me in this transition,

Then, I know I will be ready.

. . .

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This poem was originally published on Medium: