Empty Promises Poem by Steve Ricketts

This gift of love that we all hold, is meant to last passed getting old. To stay with us for all our time, not just until they're gone from sight. Is it just familiar contempt, that makes us want to declare, this love for one no longer here. Easy word not hard to find. It's time that we can't seem to spare, a minute here a minute there, how they mount and steal away, all the things we did say, are's to do when they're no more. Promises made when hearts are torn, once their mended not so sure.

Promises made with good intent, when eyes were filled with salty tears. Eyes now dry no longer red, allows the mind to see more clear. Thoughts now turn to what they'd say, if we could see them on another day, times too short with non to spare. Perhaps we'll go when rain is though, better still when we see the sun. For we can spend more time with you, once all our work is through.

Days too short no time is there, to give you the respect your due. Wait a while, as days grow long, it's then we'll have more time for you. Promises made, they will be kept, just give me time to organise. Now summer days have arrived, I'll try to keep my word alive, it's hard for me you understand. But I know you won't really mind, when I tell you of my day so full, once I get to visit you. Bills to pay and mouths to feed. I know that you will believe, I could not get away today and so can we make it for another day. I promise then I'll visit you, once there's no more choirs to do.