Summertime but I feel cold.
Empty thoughts that seem so deep.
Heavy eyes of tears unrolled.
So tired yet cannot sleep.
Things begin to drift away.
Known faces now appear strange.
But my wits will find a way
as memories rearrange.
Worry not to find the cause-
the mind has taken a pause.
Man with a sense of humour
though appeared quiet and shy.
Read no news, loved no rumours,
just with his smile he lived by.
He would greet with a salute,
and wander at a canter.
Chirped till you told him to mute,
but ready for a banter.
His wand now no more in hand-
I will miss this blue-shorts man.
I have watched this little girl
grow up in my neighbourhood.
Fluffy hair ever unfurled
dancing away her childhood.
She walked with a bouncy gait,
and spoke with her big round eyes.
And the boys would drool and wait
for a glimpse of fire and ice.
Though I shall see her no more -
her image my soul will pour.
