A poem for Esther
A Single to Zurich
The summer sun gently warming your face
Will be my caress, and my kiss, the taste
Of the first snowflakes melting on your lips
Let the breeze that rustles the autumn leaves
Whisper my name, the softly lapping waves
On the pebbles, the sound of my footsteps,
My scent, the mown grass or toast freshly made
Or wild garlic in a damp forest glade
My voice, the sounds only the dog hears
Remember me as I was down the years
Your rock, I won’t be the stone in your shoe
A love so perfect, nothing can undo
But this millstone grinds hope into fear
So now it is time to save you more tears
Beautiful