He meets her daily in the street
Ever with grandchildren in tow
And diffidently stops to greet
This secret love of long ago.
While he held back another beau
Had ventured, won the prize
Of one whose virtues time would show
And difficulty realise.
A widow young, kids raised alone,
To flower with a nuture rare,
Each now with families of their own
A testimony to her care.
At times he’s thought, “Perhaps we two…..?”
But then, “no that’s absurd!”
Always first choice, if he but knew,
And still he dare not say the word.