In science, they say love,
Is brought on through
By the chemistry of our bodies,
Science couldn’t feel it, but only react.

It was science, the doctor’s had said,
That he would not make it through,
The first one, to leave the body,
Needn’t blessed more, at his age.

He remembered the first flowers
He gave her, beautiful, but nothing
Will be saved more in his heart,
Than the fifty one years he had with her.

His shoulders bore the tears,
Of the one he held in life, his wife Penny.
Ten years she’s passed on, but the thoughts
The same, now are still waiting for him.

The only boy, and the only one they had,
Was a dog, a setter that settled with them.
Science only framed his life in sevens,
Benny beat science with the silence of love.

He showed them what obedience meant,
The lost of him now, their dear dog, this day,
And the first day to adorn him with flowers,
Science only showed them how they grew.

A simple burial, in the times here
In the yard, his free domain.
Chances he’s still chasing after the rabbits,
Never caught one, but always wished he could.

What, with his wife, Benny knew her fear,
Only then did he know to be near,
More of a silent misery, with him here,
She’s gone, but to his smell, she was still there.

What they didn’t realize, but too late,
Science had shown, but could not explain
Why he sensed the cancer to succumb her,
Only nature’s call, he also knew of death.

Reminiscing the stories with Benny,
Only in brief acknowledgment, eye to eye,
The mention of her name, “Penny,”
They shared in life through, and both cried.

They had targets of love in their dreams,
We can’t, dream a love, but the chase of it.
They had thought they lost the chase only once,
And that love found them, with an unseen touch.

Beneath the pebbles, of goose bump chills,
If only science could measure how many
Of them, and know why, that it could
And measure the ice, how cold it can burn, why?

The first day, when Benny couldn’t know,
“Hello Benny, we love you, come with us,”
He had more, than what it took,
They found love to be his only handicap.

The twelve years they had with him,
With all they thought, but there was more.
In his years, he paid the price with love,
Happiness was the three of them, why more?

Then time came, when Penny could only smile,
And the tears were like baby’s breath, with a rose.
In her passing the vases were filled with drops,
Of only the dew of an early morning chill.

What will be broken down,
Can only be shown in a different light.
What will not be seen or can’t,
What will be in the next and different life.

What he does feel, the heart tells him,
That God through His mercy,
Benny will now be running in that field with
The dew of the early morning breath, with Penny.

©2007, Ron Globe