Sometimes . . .
When I feel walked on,
Yelled at, misused and abused,
I recall your soft-spoken voice . . .
And the way it calms me,
And puts me at ease.
And, I think . . . gentle.

Often . . .
When I’m very alone,
Feeling as if no one cares or remembers,
I recall the kind words you’ve spoken . . .
When I’ve least expected them,
But needed them most.
And, I think . . . thoughtful.

Frequently . . .
When I’ve so desired an honest response,
But seldom received it,
I recall your blunt,
Yet straightforward answers . . .
And your willingness to discuss the truth.
And, I think . . . sincere.

Now . . .
Whenever I hear the words,
Gentle, thoughtful, sincere . . .
I think . . . friend,
And, naturally . . .
I think of you.