Drear are the days of November my Charl yet I have to withstand the pain which makes e'en a pleasant sunshine Charl fade into darkly clouds again. The ringing of the telephone whould bring me delight for every day you'd call to say "hello!" to me "I love you lots" your parting words to me each night and now you've gone from me I ask "why did it have to be?" I have to depend on memories which filter thro' my mind as when we went asearching flowers for the shop we had silkened ones we needed - indeed no other kind were we on preparing to journey, by others thought to be mad? Tho' young, just fifteen, your antiques were very exciting silver and glass, copper and brass - beads and small trinkets too, alpines in sinks I had gravelled - so they were also inviting but most of all my girl, I loved just being with you. Not a cloud in the sky as we took our leave yet snowdrifts as high as the trees, we were frightened as we neared Cannock Chase - we could hardly believe then with flowers safe and sound, it all suddenly brightened. An adventure that no one could ever repeat the sun shining here yet snow falling fast over there? our fond togetherness I yearn for Charl, with fervency I'd entreat for the laughter and smiles on a day with you, yes, just anywhere... Your lonely and very loving Mum