Inside My World

Inside My World

Tiny bits of you

run around always—

leaping, bounding,

resounding in me.

Your eyes sparkled once

like fresh-minted stars,

and the sound of your laugh

still rings in my memory—

soft as wind chimes

on a summer breeze.

When darkness falls,

there you are:

a tickle of memory,

and I laugh, recalling

how we’d speak the same words

at the same time—huh?—

then laugh even more,

because we knew what it meant:

a bond like no other.

They call it marriage—

boy meets girl,

sparks fly like fireworks

under a wide-open sky,

the old-fashioned way.

Cool, huh? Bobby socks,

big hops, soda bars,

and fifty-cent Saturday

double features.

Remember those days?

Walking hand in hand,

nervous at the first clasp,

like a fish hooked

in the sea of love—

it was thrilling.

Time has passed;

tweets are the new handclasps—

a quick shout-out, huh?—

but each generation

has its own tale of nostalgia, right?

What’s inside my world

is how I saw it then—

a romance of a different kind.

I’m glad you came

into my world.

Your smile carries me

to the moonlit stars above,

like a gentle tide

pulling me to distant shores.

Though now you’re gone,

sleeping in death’s bedroom,

you remain close inside—

memories unfolding constantly,

reminding me how much

those days meant.

My honey, forever

inside my world,

you always are.