The bottle sits upon the table still,
It’s color brightened by the morning sun
Which dances lightly on the window sill
To signify the day has just begun.
The wine remains within, untasted yet,
A symbol of the better times we knew,
It’s purchase made upon the day we met
As we strolled barefoot through the morning dew.
A tear reflects the morning sunlight’s rays,
As I recall the one I used to hold,
And suddenly I’m longing for those days.
Your absence makes the bottle seem so cold,
For touching it sends shivers down my spine,
Regretting that we never shared the wine.
March 19, 1986
© 2010 – 2011, Steven R. Drennon. All rights reserved.