Vision springs to mind,
How tea tastes bitter without sugar,
You search cupboard for the sweetness,
Finding nothing there.
We cannot escape from where,
We find ourselves in this moment,
Wanting for tea and scones,
Sitting alone at the table.
Symphony where notes played out of pitch,
I am not following your tempo,
You are not strumming the chords,
We hear the dissonance.
Missing each other’s daily beat,
Most days there is this yearning,
What happened to how you smile,
Hearing now bittersweet symphony.
(c) Amanda Wilson 2014