I find myself often remembering you,
wondering about all the things we never got to do.
I remember the way that you used to smile,
in a way that reflected your own special style.
I remember how you would say the most beautiful things,
in my mind and ears your words still ring.
I remember your voice ~ it’s still very clear,
the way you spoke without a trace of fear.
I remember how physically fit you were,
just watching you move made something in me stir.
The wonderfully cut muscles ~ so strategically placed,
on your strong black frame, so perfectly encased.
Remembering you brings to my heart great pleasure,
for our brief time together, I will always treasure.
Remembering how you filled my heart and touched my very soul,
all my love and attention, you skillfully stole.
I guess remembering is really not such a crime,
as my memories of you grow fonder with time.
By Sylvia Porter-Hall