Our Life · Poetry/Short Stories

Come December


With my love

By my side

Through these dry prairie grasses

We’ll stroll

Chatting about this passing year;

Oh how we have lived!

Laughed and cried

Hang onto and let go

Dreamed on like little kids

Dared to… like teenagers

Yet here we are;

Becoming “elders”

In our own right;

Learning from hard falls

While keeping our heads high


Cherishing another year

Well lived.

It’s December

Let’s make it to next December.

~Susan McMillan

10 thoughts on “Come December

  1. We have strolled through many places hand in hand, warm and cold, rain and shine talking about ups downs and us. We have talked and planned, dreamed for what might be if we can only have one more breath together wherever we might lay our head. Dreaming about us, dreaming about two old people many years from now sitting hand in hand looking back at dreams had and had not, laughing at what came and went, laughing at a bigger plan that was not ours but perfect, planned before our time. A plan of love, laughter, sickness and health, rich and poor until the day our time is no more.
    I love you my bride always wherever we might stroll.

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