I think of you, at times when it’s not right,
When I shouldn’t be, especially at night,
Those memories, the smells, the taste, the touch,
The little things which meant so very much.
I long for you, though knowing you’re not there,
The feel of velvet skin, the scent of heather hair,
That special place my hand rested in sleep,
The little things are always ours to keep.
I wonder where you are each passing day,
Do you think of me whilst going on your way,
Is it my touch or peach roses you recall,
The little things, oh once we had them all.
I see that look of shock or love upon your face,
When I hold you or touch that special place,
Communicating even when we didn’t speak,
The little things that made me strong, and weak.
I miss you, perhaps more than you will know,
But love will never die, ‘twill only grow,
So come to me princess on angels wings,
And make them last, those wondrous little things.
by Richard Ansell