Save some for the Bees

It seemed to him, so long ago now
That she leaned over him and showed him how,
To tend the garden and prune the trees
“We must look after the Honey Bees”

Perhaps the signs were always there
But how could they ever know?
That after all this time and many a season
She would be the first to go…

A Sunday bouquet he would always bring,
Lovingly pruned and tied with string,
He saw less and less familiar faces
Withered flowers on loved ones resting places

He changed the water and arranged the display,
With budding roses so tall
Bleeding hearts and forget me nots,
which kind of said it said it all

Weathered hands arranged the bunch
In the old pot, next to her stone,
It was only here, whilst changing the flowers
That he never felt alone

He recalled her voice in the morning sunshine
Somewhere so close, up above
His throat choked up, his eyes were moist
“Save some for the bees my love.”