Whimsical poems

ODE TO A BUS STOP

A rough patch on the pavement
Marks the spot where it once stood
The oft remembered bus stop
Where we met up when we could
That old beloved meeting place
Which somehow sealed our fate,
Where you were always early
And I was always late.

That old and lovely bus,
Where we loitered, laughed and talked,
Which, long before we reached it,
We saw it as we walked.
The bus shelter has gone as well,
Always worn out and old,
Where we found lots of lovely ways
Of keeping out the cold.

Our kids now walk the other way
To catch a local bus,
There is no shelter there for them,
Not like there was for us.
Their meetings are more sheltered,
In laser-lighted din,
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You are welcome to use an existing poem if it fits the bill, but just to give me some feedback, please email Time for Rhyme for the last two lines.

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