Absence does not imply a lack of care
Nor does an empty bed deny the fact
Of love that loves although it is not there
And shares its heart although it cannot act.
A love that is continual and wide
Enough to stretch across both time and space
Ignoring where it happens to abide
To pull another love to its embrace
Can still be felt although from far away
And tucks a distant form in bed at night;
Its thoughts should not be ever said to stray
Out towards its object, for they are, by right
Always out there, and only stray back in
To wish that it were closer than it's been.
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