The sun rising over
the mountains so cold
the cabin creaking
to echo my joints
the stove clicks to life
fire igniting to brew
sweet, bitter earl grey
the rich, earthy smell
and she is here, just like
all those years ago
wandering beauty,
popped in for a cuppa
accent thick ganache
enveloping me
the age old story,
so cliche it hurt,
came to life in my chest
my words came crashing out
followed by my breath-y
apologies, I blush.
We sink into reading chairs,
she compliments the tea,
I mumble like a child.
we met every saturday,
tea and picnics, we shared.
years passed, we grew close,
she looked so stunning
in that white dress.
I blushed at the altar, teary eyed.
We could not create,
she cried,
but we had each other,
those happy years went quickly.
I sit in the old, cobwebbed chair,
shop closed and dusty,
my cuppa going cold,
try to hold back the flood,
but I find my eyes leaking,
oh my dear, sweet lady,
I miss you still,
I think I'll come home,
I'll come see you soon.
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