Waiting Mother

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Shes standing at the dock

Skirts billowing in the wind,

Handkercheif clutched in her hand

 

Its a foggy cold morning,

The mist spreads over sea

Creeps over the land

 

She clutches her shawl

Waiting always waiting

For some small sign

 

For the ship and the boy

She hasnt seen in 2 years

5 months, days 9

 

Her eyes are narrow

pinched from too little sleep,

and sewing by candle night

 

Her heart is weary of waiting

For her boy

Her little knight

 

The one with sandy curls,

And an angels smile,

And a laugh that ringed true

 

The only one left for her to love

Who sailed away

To make money for them two

 

Her little boy

With dreams in his eyes,

And hope in his heart

 

So eager for adventure

the only reason

She could bear to let them part

 

She stands on the dock

In the mist

Waiting for the ship to come in

 

Then she will take him home,

Feed him soup,

And all her saved up gin

 

Where is the boat?

Why has it not come?

Has the mist moved away?

 

It cant be, It mustnt be

Cos all she can see

Is a sinking ship out by the bay..

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About saharsalman

Aspiring poet. Spectator of life. Words of Whim.
This entry was posted in Death, Family, Journey, Memories, Poetry, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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