In point of fact he did not complain
He simply made an accurate observation
However, his life was a life lived in pain
And so it was not unnatural
For his first thoughts to be thoughts of pain
In that idyll, in that peaceful village
His home, for many a year now
And hers too, for only a few years less
A togetherness of life, of a life lived together
Yet all the while his limitations limited
His adventures, his day by day adventures
The doctor called by, but now travels widely
His friend, and her partner, had called by
But they had not returned, not yet returned
Which he was sure they had promised to do
But of course they led very busy lives
With families, friends, and circles of society
He did not mean to sound bitter
In point of fact he did not sound bitter
He was matter of fact, straight to the point
However his life had minimal visitations
And so it was not at all surprising
For his first thoughts to be of a relaxant
With easement, in this place of inhaled calm
His passage, his journey was partly fulfilled
And hers too, to see him freed from suffering
This was, a thought out, measurement of life
A considered measurement, made together
Because always their minds remained creative
