The Bench

So innocently it beckons
To those who wander by
Depending on the time of day,
The weather and your time,
You will accept the call.

It speaks of days gone past,
Of others it has beckoned to.
A mother and a child,
An elderly gentleman
Who sat to rest awhile.

A woman of a certain age,
A smile across her face.
Ah, but of all those who
Have succumbed to the invitation,.
To sit and rest.
It is “the lovers” that I recall.

Not young, but elderly,
Who sat there and gazed into each other’s eyes.
Married many years?
Perhaps in this day of longer lives,
Could they be newly weds?

I like to conjure up
A story of people who sat there before.
And see a picture forming of those,
Who have filled  their box of memories.

The one I like the most,
A couple no longer young,
But with hearts bent in that direction
Who choose to walk that path.

And sat upon that bench.
They talked of planting,
A small flowering plant
To grow silently, as a testament of their love.  

Sunshine, could not help myself.Loved the photo. marty