THE HOME
She sits alone by the window,
Weakened eyes see the grass and the trees.
Although she's warm and safe inside,
She longs to feel the breeze.
She wonders how long she has been here?
How many years have gone by?
How many of her kin are still living?
Which ones have gone on to die?
Days, weeks, months roll into years,
No one comes to visit or call.
Is there no one left who remembers?
No one? No one at all?
Once upon a time she was pretty,
With dimples in her cheeks -
With flaxen hair and golden curls,
With dark and light sun streaks.
A body slim and lovely,
That moved at a hint of command,
And long legs swift as a leopard's,
All summer, she was lean and tanned.
A husband, home and children,
She had lived it all, it seemed.
Happiness, love and a family,
Of things others had only dreamed.
To grow old should be an honor,
Given credit for lessons learned.
Becoming wise with the wisdom.
Of what you give, you receive in return.
What brought her to this lonely place,
No one seems to know.
When asked about this wonder,
She's told, "It was so long ago."
And so she stares in silence,
Out the window at the grass and the trees,
And in her mind she wonders,
If she'll ever again, feel the breeze.
Jay Cee ~~ ©
INDEX
Section I
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First Published: 25-Aug-2007 10:07 AM - Last Update: 29-Mar-2013 10:26 AM
© 2007 by Midnight Ramblin's; Owner: Jean "Jay Cee" Clark - All Rights Reserved
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"AS MY LOVE LIES SLEEPING"