The book lies closed now

Gathering dust on a shelf

I look, but do not touch

That reminder of yourself

 

Better to imagine our life

Dream of better times

Envisage your lovely face

Hum your happy rhymes

 

Shady bluebells in spring

Red leaves in November

Bonfires and sparklers

The chapters I remember

 

More novella than novel

Not near enough pages

A book with love enough

To last two lovers ages

 

Lacking any illustrations

Or an over the top blurb

Only a trove of chapters

On loving, your only verb

 

Shady bluebells in spring

Red leaves in November

Bonfires and sparklers

The chapters I remember