No eloquent words, flowers, gifts or cards
could he give her, but just a token
gesture of his affection
with twisted smile, and memory all but gone.
Eyesight, hearing, failing too,
he tried to form his thoughts,
while expressing his love to her,
but his stroke had stolen from them so much.
Like the younger version of himself
with vibrant, baritone rich voice
when he once belted out old tunes,
are but broken phrases hanging on.
With faint muttering he attempts to sing,
to remember the lyrics, what he wants to say
like the day he swooned her heart with song.
But, she’ll treasure what they have today
for she fears the day when he is gone.
and prays to God it lingers on.
Happy Valentine’s Day to all.
Joyce E. Johnson © 2017