Fay Slimm.

Losing You.

 

 

 

Losing You.

Perhaps ours was not a usual love,
the sort that demands continual proof,
fervour which naught can cool or drown,
the fierce passion that willingly lays down
its needs for another\'s approval, no our own
affection was something written in lighter tone.

Ours had the keenness of separate
beings enjoying share of time together,
reaching for comfort found hand in hand
when trouble meant need of understanding,
yes our connection led us to friendship\'s corner,
where choice was honoured and respect afforded.

Yet love was there,
it grew with care
of each for each,
so in losing you
death, of a sort
took me too.