Your Favourite Place

As I walked down the street, There were many around, I looked for your face in the bustling crowd, There were some who looked happy, And some who looked blue, But not one of them, Looked like you. And as I turn the corner, I look at the place, The old wooden bench, Once your favourite space, A lady sits there, With a smile on her face, I so wish that she was you. I order a coffee, And sit for a while, At your favourite cafe, Where you'd chat with a smile, Those lovely Welsh cakes, Are placed neatly in piles, Always a treat for you. I head for the bus, And it's starting to rain, I'm so glad I've brought my brolly today, If only my life could start over again, For its not the same without you. Jayne Louise Davies