The bench

The bench….

The bench it has a year round view
As it stares out at the sea
Taking in the memories
Of all that it can see
It never fails, in fine details
Whether big or small
Memories thought long since gone, now can be recalled
A discreet yet public kind of voyeur
Where people sit and rest a while, as if they had been lured
And if you look upon the bench
Is usually an older crowd
Their mind still full of youth
With a body that’s let them down
But when I sit upon the bench
Looking out to sea
I remember all the times that you too sat here with me
This bench is for your honour
It has an engraved plaque
But how I wish we were young again
And I would have you back.