Lugh’s Garden

Old toys, no longer played with,
Set aside to gather dust,
What a blessing, they don’t feel
Rejection’s pain.
With button eyes gone missing,
Painted smiles all scuffed and worn,
And decorations faded,
With tear stains.

Once held with real affection,
Bringing happiness and joy,
Or solace in those times
When you were sad.
Now all they do is sit there,
In a closet, or a box,
Remembering the good times
They once had.

Still, something in their make-up,
In the way you held them close,
And whispered little secrets,
In their ears,
Brought life to wood and velvet,
Gave them personalities,
That shared your happy times, and
All your fears.

Now, old toys sit and wonder,
(The forgotten sometimes do),
If they’ll soon be invited
To your games,
But new joys keep you busy,
And new loves fill your life,
It won’t be long ‘til you
Forget their names.

There was a time,
When words flowed between us,
Like the eddies in a brook,
Swirling ‘round the rocks
In our stream of consciousness,
Picking up bits of mental flotsam,
And carrying them to
Each other,
Like little gifts of love.

There was a time,
When we invented words,
To describe feelings that were
Too new to have descriptions,
Or even names,
But, in our hearts,
We knew what they meant.

There was a time,
When it only took your sigh,
To tell me that you were
Sending me the love of
A lifetime,
And I could say thank you
With just a smile.

But that was a time,
Long ago,
And all I have left are
The echoes of those words,
And the worn out phrases,
That look like, “I love you”,
But sound like a muffled bell,
A voice, fading slowly away,
Into the growing mist.