Days Gone By by Wizzy

Days Gone By

by Wizzy

DISCLAIMERS:....none needed....this just “popped” into my head one night after an convo with a friend. ...... Inspired by an IM chat one night.....

All feedback can be addressed towizzy44tc@yahoo.com.

I see her sitting there in front of a dull burning fireplace, the ashes almost cold, and the Bud Light beer can empty sitting at her side. It’s been 50 years since we have been together. A friend for life is what we are. Many years have come and gone but her love and support have guided me through even the worst of times. We made a promise 50 years ago to this very day; she would tell me the meaning of her poetry.

I had driven many miles in a snowstorm to hide us away from prying eyes, to be alone with her one more time, hoping to discover her darkest secretes. We were tucked in a chalet in a state where no one knows us, to find out what her most hidden desire truly is. I had waited a lifetime for this very moment. The love I had hidden, lied and denied could now be brought forth with utter truthfulness. From this day on I would never again hide the love I felt for this woman who sat beside me.

Her eyes still held a sparkle of laughter in the aging globes, her smile still youthful. The voice filled with love and care rang true in my ears as she bitched and moaned about the cold weather, yet she was up before the dawn each morning to see the new fallen snow through the eyes of a child. Her knees and hips ached from the cold snap of weather after the snow storm had blown its way through our hide away. I had to smile at the thoughts that came back to me as I sat watching her knit a new pair of mittens for her grandson.

I kept my mouth shut as she set aside her needlework and unfolded a worn out notebook. I knew this was her poetry she had worked on everyday since the day we first met. I longed to read each page, to find the hidden answers, but I would know soon enough as she turned her misty hazel eyes on me. Her hand reached out for mine, the grasp strong for her age. It surprised me as she griped mine in hers and said the words that I never will forget.

To this very day, I can recall the fire in her eyes as she handed me the notebook. She told me of her writings and of where her inspiration had come from. I sit alone by the fire now. Gone from this world is my love, taken from me, the rock that I leaned on for only a few short years as a lover but most of all, the one that was my friend and soul mate. I have never read the notebook or what was contained inside for this was her treasured book. I feel the last breath of life and see the light waiting for me from the other side. There she is in all her glory, the notebook clutched in her hands, beckoning me to once again join her and reunite with the one who claimed my heart so many years ago with just a few words in a poem.

The End

Feed back would be great. So if you read this far why don’t you spend another two minutes writing me and telling me what you think so far… . wizzy44tc@yahoo.com.

The SandBox 101