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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required THEY USED SPOONED NOW SHE IS SPOON FED He holds a seventy-two year old spoon to her mouth seventy-two years wed seventy-two years in the same bed he holds the spoon in front of her gray framed head after all, sick or not, frail or not the lady must be fed and if anyone was going to do the feeding it would be the man who, for seventy-two years she'd been needing gardening, growing, weeding seeding the same garden for seventy-two years through sun and rain seventy-two years easing each others pain one's devotion is only exceeded by the other father and mother with men and women left behind yet always on their collective mind the years spent stifling arguments and cultivating love the many years they had to fix the roof above his hand shook as the spoon neared her mouth they'd began in the north but ended up in the south no cold north wind to battle against, only to lose the fight no snow to begin in the morning and still be falling past midnight no white to fight against with an aging back and a discontented wife but this was their life and slowly he slips the ground up mush upon her tongue because she could hardly swallow with no rule book nor informative guide that left them sometimes feeling hollow each not fearing but expecting death and so each dawn one would feel for the others breath so spoonful by spoonful that 72 year old utensil was used for sustenance he so amorous for 72 years of her divine countenance he had plagues of his own but a 72 year old bond had been grown alas they would swallow their pride let their Lord be their guide the God who had protected them and stifled their tepid tears and had been doing so for seventy-two years © 2012 © copyright PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~
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