There was a man sat on a bench, waiting for his bride to arrive;
There was a woman outside a church, wiping the tears from her eyes.
Today was the day his future bride would have arrived;
Today was the day her husband had lost his life.
The tears that poured down from his eyes,
Created the puddle in which her reflection lied.
Her smile told of beauty, of love and of radiance;
When inside all she felt, was the end of all romance.
She handed him her handkerchief and asked what was wrong;
The words fell from his mouth, unwittingly like a song.
His bride, he said, had not arrived.
His heart was broken; his love-life had died.
She offered him comfort and he thanked her for caring,
Then she spoke of her lover and his death left her crying.
As the two of them talked, she embraced all his words,
As she realised he was just like her.
She suddenly stopped and apologized for talking,
For she had come over in the first place,
To maybe aid him, whilst she was herself in mourning.
As he told her his tale, it saddened her to see,
The man was still in mourning, for his bride to be.
One year before, in a collision with a car,
She too had died and floated away up into the stars.
Coincidence, this may have been.
Two lovers were now lost, to never be;
But with a simple twist of fate, new lovers would exist…
Their misery had given them a connection.
Their love was so strong, it left a lasting impression.
Now twenty two years later, at the graveyard she weeps;
For the twice widowed woman,
Has lost her man of mourning in his sleep.
