I remember millions of things when I think of you,

Candles reflecting on a polished oak table, a table just for two,

I remember the glowing lamps on a rain lashed, soddened street,

Pictures in puddles and and listening to the rains calming beat,

I remember, in Autumn, the shimmer of wet leaves,

Smoky grey November nights compared to blue of May eves,

I remember waiting for you by the town hall doors,

Or somewhere in a country lane, for a walk along the moors,

I remember the sweetness of songs, the music of romance,

An excuse to hold you and smell your scent at a local dance,

When I have a country walk, a cottage tea, a window with a view

I still remember a million things when I think of you.