Poem for Today

Perfect Love

The soft green sward of the park

stretched, acre upon acre;

silver flashes from the gentle flow

of the stream that winds across.

Wooden benches below the willow trees,

giving refuge to the lovers

wandering hand in hand below.

Old people sit and watch together;

a child sits and plays alone,

laughing happily to his unseen friend,

rejoicing in his imaginary world.

He watches a flower, fragile amongst the green;

eyes wide, gazing rapturously downward,

hardly daring to even rest a gentle finger

on the beauty of the gold and white.

It seems like hours, he sits and watches,

softly murmuring to his new-found friend,

stopping only to listen to the wind’s reply.

In the distance his mother sits and watches,

remembering her own youth and innocence.

She smiles an envious, wistful, smile,

happy memories bringing momentary tears.

She glances at an old couple as they watch,

taking in the scene as their twilight draws.

The old woman sees hope and innocence;

the old man sees a great love in magnitude.

slowly his hand reaches out, trembling,

to hold that of his own treasured love,

clutching to himself a flood of memories

that lie enshrined within a golden casket.

For a moment they gaze into each other’s eyes,

tear-stained by the years of happy thoughts,

before turning back to watch the child.

From the rustic bench the lovers wait,

yet not quite knowing what for.

They watch, awe-struck, as the child,

oblivious to the world beyond his dreams,

tenderly reaches out his hand, whispering gently,

content with the answering breeze

whispering soft and clear across the park.

Leaves rustle through the trees, urgently calling

to the songbirds, circling high in summer flight.

The birds echo everyone’s thoughts

as they fly upward above the child,

their eyes seeing so much more than ours,

especially the wonder of a perfect love.