Tuesday, November 1, 2011


In the months between the time I agreed to marry Bill and the time he moved to Sheridan, Wyoming, to be with me, I wrote the following poem. If you haven’t read the story of how Bill and I met and were married, click here. You can read the poem on my Website.


In the morning,
I kiss the sheets, pillowcases, his towel,
drink in his scent.

When I eat breakfast,
I wish he were there
to drop Raisin Bran crumbs on the carpet,
talk to me,
take my hand,
kiss me.

All through the day,
I wish he were with me
to rub aching muscles,
hold and kiss me when I least expect it.

In the evening,
I wish he could do the dishes
while I read him the paper.
Later, as I sit with my feet up, enjoying a good book,
I wish he were opposite me, doing the same.

As I drift off to sleep,
I wish he were next to me
with his arms around me.

One day, we’ll be together.
Until then,
all I have are memories.

Abbie Johnson Taylor, Author of We Shall Overcome

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