We were but children when we met, with all our lives to live,
Stretching endlessly before us, and all our love to give.
From school to university, first jobs and then careers,
We nursed each other’s broken hearts, shared all our hopes and fears.
A sporting match, a workday lunch, pub quizzes, black tie balls.
Each helped to build that special bond. We had fun through them all.
We’ve seen many a movie, shared our friends’ wedding bells.
Each date upon our calendars a special story tells.
Now we have children of our own and partners, sweet and true,
Our time no more our own it seems, the opportunities too few.
But please don’t think me silly or even raving mad,
‘Cos missing you these past few years has made me feel quite sad.
I know I haven’t always been the perfect friend it’s true,
But there really is no doubting just how much I have loved you.
You did not need those little words, or even gifts to say.
Your actions showed me that you cared in your very own sweet way.
As we move on down different paths it makes me feel so sad,
But when we do get to meet up I feel so very glad.
So in my poem to you now I only want to say,
“Here’s to many memories more – please, let’s try to find a way?”
One friend should be there for another and you have been there for me.
Please know it works both ways my friend. I hope you call me soon to see.
And so my pen is running dry, my poem at an end.
I truly hope you’ll always be my oldest, dearest, friend.
© Emily Page
Poet's Corner 