Farnborough

We marvelled at the emerald green
Shimmer, soft on the necks of the
Mating drakes as they meandered along
The cool and limey lake.
And we listened to the dreamy sound
Of a distant plane
Circling above us
While we dipped our toes
Into an ocean of baby buttercups.
We felt the spring sunshine caress
Our faces
And were audience to our own thoughts.
Brown and blue eyes absorbing everything.

For a moment she struggled with her voice,
Wrestling with her memory,
The once dexterous fingers of her mind
Tugging at the beginnings of something.

I knew she had forgotten how to say beautiful

But we both understood
Because there's no need for language
When the words
Are written on your face.