Sunday 16 August 2009

Waiting too long


Always alone
by the thrown tree—
his moan now woe.

Blue skies his low.
Best was snow or
rain—though love missed.

On death, she kissed.



He waited as he always waited—outside by the fallen tree.

.....The worse days were sunny and blue when the children danced to school. But on

rainy days when the children trudged by he could always imagine her wanting to

come.

.....Not even her death stopped him waiting.

When is mine yours?


The wedding dress was a satin back taffeta
a-line gown with halter-top but the mirror was screaming not good with those shoulders. In any case, the side-draped
waistline with its delicate crystal beading was too tight but what did you expect.
.....Shame his girl friend insisted he wore a morning-suit.