Ivy and jim
That old bench stands its place in time,
three generations occupying that seat.
Non have sat since the last two left
war consumed one, the other loneliness.
He a young man as tall as an oak tree
the other a lady from the same wood be
A love of legend, a life filled with hope,
war alas distinguish this candle\'s wick.
No sound of small feet to fill her empty days,
dreaded silence with life, now a far off gaze.
On this bench she\'d sit and remember,
times of happiness when entwined together.
Now with this her last long breath,
to meet her jim this life after next.