“Old Friends sat on their parkbench like bookends”

– Paul Simon

I’m off this morning to meet an old friend for a walk we have taken many times over fifteen years.  There is little in life that brings more comfort than spending time with someone who shares your history.  There will be no need to strike up a conversation, because we will simply continue the one we’ve been having for so many years.

Old Friends

Old friends are savored

Like finely aged wine,

They are part of ourselves

And grow mellow with time.

♥

We are woven together,

Our threads wrap and bind,

As our tapestry grows,

And our lives intertwine.

♥

How colorful friendship

That grows through the years!

A rainbow of memories

Of laughter and tears.

♥

They speak without words,

Know the song of our heart,

And distance and time

Cannot keep us apart.

©Pamela Stead Jones 2010