by cricketjeff on April 1, 2010. © Jeff Green, All rights reserved
Her book unread before her, and her thoughts inside herself.
He hadn’t said he’d be there but she hope that, just today,
He’d find the time to visit, and a little more to stay.
She sat alone and waited with the shortbread in the tin,
The clock moved slowly onward, soon her programme would begin.
He didn’t call so often as he used to long ago,
But perhaps he would this evening, if he’d something new to show.
She sat alone recalling how he used to bring her news,
Of his latest bold adventure, or to ask her for her views.
He never planned their meetings, but she missed them more and more,
And she missed the boy that called her “The old lady from next door”.