A tight hug from an old friend,
Two warm drinks and long chats.
Frantic days no longer linger and
We are glad to think of home.
His smile brings back fond memories
Of school days long gone by.
Fourteen was a grand age then
But it’s only now I know why.
A young girl admires the tree
Behind us, tall and strong.
Her fingers touch the branches with
Orange baubles clinging on.
We wrap up from the frosty air,
Purple scarf, black gloves, long coat.
Ten Christmases of friendship
And many more to go.
As I grasp his arm on Oxford Street,
I think of time gone past.
Though our dreams and hopes are always here
Light fades and we walk on.