FRIENDS
It was just a small bunch of flowers, not expensive at all
That the child held tightly as on the old lady she did call,
She skipped down the path and rang the old door bell,
The old lady eager and waiting that you could plainly tell,
For the door opened right away, sweet joy on each face.
The flowers were admired for their beauty and grace.

They were companions, true friends, so age did not matter,
They sat close, talked and laughed, such a happy chatter,
Well over sixty years difference in the ages of these two,
If fine they went into the garden, told of flowers they knew,
Watched the butterflies, listened to each birds sweet tune
And time flew by and going home hour came much too soon.

One week the child did not come skipping to the front door,
The happy chatter and the sweet laughter would be no more,
An empty void filled the house where the old lady dwelt,
She could not understand the child was taken, as she knelt
In prayer asking for comfort and to know the reason why,
She was old and left alone and her young friend did die.

Sweet balm covered her weak old frame, sh felt God’s love,
She did not need to know why the child went first above,
But she knew that they would meet, the bond ever strong be,
As that dear, sweet friendship would last through eternity.
Every week she bought a bunch of flowers and did place
Them in a vase and in love remembered the child’s face.

(Millicent) Ann Margetson November 19, 2003