Sunday's

In the height of summer, the early morning starts, 6am, pack the car, and of we would go, The cold mornings, the tea in a flask, Car boots every Sunday for ten weeks, I would help you sell your antiques, We used to have such laughs and fun, On those Sunday’s in the sun. You used to be so strong, Five years it’s been, too long, too long You left without a choice, You stand and watch me from afar, Up above in the stars, I wish you never had to leave, Then I wouldn’t have had to grieve. Claire.190 01/02/2011.