He came to her, wanting more
But he left his love outside the door
Lost in the midst of a summers rain
Truth never entered their home again
Where does love go, in the still of the night?
Romantic moments, hearts once held tight
Words of tenderness and care
Once roses danced in the air
To honor, to cherish, to love until death
To grasp one hand, even after they’ve left
A graveyard of regrets, a garden of loss
On waves of distrust, battered and tossed
Fleeting moments of memories remain
Lions of loss, remain to be tamed
A beggar knocks upon the door
The partner of one who refused to give more.
Written for my Mother, Jeanne Marie ~ upon this Mothers’ Day 2021, I still marvel at how you raised 4 kids.
You kept us fed, safe and loved.
She said my “father” was a good man, until he started selling door to door as a Fuller Brush Salesman. The lonely
housewives would invite him in, the beginning of their end.
He broke her heart, she only wanted to live long enough to raise us kids, she died when I was 21.