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It was cold outside today
and the chill felt heavy
seeping through my lonely old bones.
I watched a young couple pass by.
The lady held a bouquet of roses in her hand
their testament to love
fueled by youthful plans and passion.
 
The flowers left behind a trail of petals.
And the sidewalk bloomed
transformed from dull to magical.
I have often marvelled
at how love could change the world
how it leaves behind crumbs of hope
assuring us, through a touch or a kiss,
of our life’s purpose and meaning;
how it bestows happiness, or inspires us
with trails of sunlit stories
that guide us when we lose our way
and remind us that we are beings
whose hearts beat out of the need
to be seen, to be heard, to be touched
and to burn like wild fire
under the gentle insistent lips
of a worshipful beloved.
 
And remembering all that
awakened memories of you.
And the cold and the chill
was replaced by fire.
And my tired old soul
was set aglow by stories of our love
that lay forgotten
within the decrepit corners of my heart.
And I smiled, for today, ever so briefly
I walked with you again.
And we were surrounded
by the fragrance of flowers.

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