Lots of walks I take alone,
where I walked with you before.
Strolled the pathways of the south,
there isn’t many more.
We used to talk of many things,
the flowers and the trees.
Collected bouquets for the hearth,
that I’d arrange to please.
We tried to answer lives great question,
what is it all about.
It was nature gave us pointers,
sometimes it would shout.
We saw all the babies in the spring,
then lone robins in the fall.
Those walks were like the theatre,
and they didn’t cost at all.
Now I walk those tracks alone,
still trying to work it out.
Our very favourite question,
of what is this is all about.