She hears it strummed
And runs toward its twangy
Folk fulness.
Heart free, never sad.

Always true and bright,
Donald plucks his tune.
Special, his alone.
Still there.
So bright.

“Smile, my Love,
I’m ever close at hand.
Kissing you, my Lady,
Gentle as we remember it to be.”

Ever dancing
With the strains
Of Time.
Years are moments
Till we meet again.


Charlene James-Duguid
Amissville, Virginia
August 7, 2020