Reading:
Holding hands Holding hands was not what I had had in mind The first time I said ‘I love you’, and clothes were shed. I’d intended something more daring and more extended! Taking a loved one to bed is more fervent than kind! Six decades on, although both children and grandchildren are grown, Early morning in dull November is no time to remember with regret Those wilder passions when we first met. We should be happy that We’re alive and together, though it’s sad our fledglings have flown. In keeping us an item over the years, small things had a big part to play: Gentle gestures that continued to say ‘I love you’, in their own, quiet way. So I feel a surge of gratitude for such felicities as holding hands in bed. And I’m thankful beyond anything poetry can say, that you decided to stay.
Peter Lloyd Jones 