An Abiding Love

"Yes please, my Love" he replied
"I'd love a cup of tea".
Armchair.
Newspaper.
Late afternoon sunlight.
Tick-tock.
The Great-Grandfather and the clock.
Warmed without and warmed within.
The hairs on their heads, 

 snow white in their winter of contentment.

From the kitchen with his tea she comes.
Rich smells follow her, 

bringing promises of the meal to come.
She sets down the steaming cup at his side, 

this man with whom she gave life to a family tree, 

their deep roots entwined as one.

Standing behind his chair, she places her hands 

upon his shoulders and a kiss upon his head.
His right hand crosses his heart to reach her left 

and he thanks her with a gentle squeeze of her fingers.
Smiling, she straightens, caresses his hair with her hand 

and returns to check on the roast.


June 24th, 2013
Billericay

A memory of my Great-Grandparents