the neighbours

writing as I go be gentle

She waved to him as she drove off to work that day

the man who lived across the way

in makeup off she smartly went

he in shorts so often bent

and weeding his garden he

tended there

he tended a single red rose bush there

so neatly it sat primly there

she came home that night

he was still there in dusky light

he lay across the grass so wet

his hose lay there still dripping yet

his mouth awash with grief

the grassy moss lay underneath

in his hand he tightly clasped

a farewell note

to her it wrote

""I''ve loved you since i saw you there

im  80 you only  45 at most  there

i think we soul mates

forever more

But I know Im old and nearly done!

but in it ive writ my love song

to you""

she opened up the book

and with a glance her tears bestook

she  now truly really shook

oh what a sweet man i didnt know all

of these years

my neighbour loved me from afar

a yard so wide

with fences that neatly divide

another time i could of loved him too!""

she thought aloud to herself she did say

""he went to his grave

just loving you"" the son said then

his son came over and held her there

""this letter is from Dad

but its me who really cared!""

they rang the undertaker and the funeral home

she sat with him, that son she'd never ever met

till morning light

and they lit candles and talked all night

his father loved her as well it seemed

but the son loved her first

that night she sorta beamed

on his lounge she sat

sipping coffee freshly brewed

so in this tale of love and death

the son and neighbour

became an item and in love and

in grief they lived

but fathers grave

was tended often

by son and neighbour

now very much a proper item

they hosed and tended that rose bush

for ever more

and it grew no spikes

just strangely so

just red roses true

he told her meekly so

ill pick only for you

my neighbour

my true love

and my Dad's too xxx

she breathed in and out

and saw the love

their undyling love

no pure doubt

as she smelt

the perfumed

red rose

in it

she smelt the father dear

she remembered waving to him

in all good cheer

and the son

she loved him now

who was always ever

so swiftly near

the end

Reviews

[Julie McCarthy (juliesp..]

Please tell me to stop writing
I cant stop
its like a disease!!!