Those blessed fingers,

That caressed me,

Patted my shoulders,

Have long lost.

Coded in me,

That fond touch,

I feel every day,

The ardour they had.

My dream catcher,

My raconteur,

Told the tales,

With Godly shine.

I still remember,

Numerous creases,

Showing the lines,

In reds and blues.

My lifeguard,

My last resort,

You taught to face,

The world at large.

By and by,

The candyman won,

And took away,

My grande dame.

I wonder how,

You feel there,

You wave at me,

Or state despair.

Those distant days,

Had no worries.

Gliding smooth,

We felt so free.

Scratching the turf,

Bare hands,

I whirl to unearth,