It was an ordinary day,
Neither sunny nor overcast,
He was an ordinary man,
Slightly stooped,
With loss of hair,
Dressed in grey,
With yellow neck scarf,
Carrying chrysanthemums,
From the local shop;
Somewhere between duty,
Memory and need,
This ritual was performed,
Quietly, without affectation,
Or expectation,
Placing the blooms,
On a simple plot,
In a churchyard,
Once a month,
This man,
Performing,
An  act,
Of,
Extraordinary,
Love.

Love Mary ***