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The curtain of pain fell upon us as we stood,
at his tomb and snow kissed our quivering lips;
my voice was lead and it seemed I was made of wood,
the air cold chilled and I recall a wind that whips.
Pulling my raven hair like a flowing river,
tangles entwined and I could not help but quiver;
the scar on my soul was bleeding for my baby,
would I ever love like this again-  m a y b e  . . .
That moment was to be a shadow on the wall of time,
and our sorrow a vine that will forever climb;
I stood sobbing in this place of decaying-  apart,
from my husband who was stone etched to his heart.
Never again would he smile at me with unbidden joy,
the drums of our life rolled and ceased on that day;
alone- I would be the one bringing roses for our baby boy,
for from that day my husband was a man made of clay.

Then, the clouds sailed across the sky as I stood weeping;
when he left me one winter day -   for his forever sleeping.

___________________________________
April 18, 2019


Poetry/Rhyme/The Curtain of Pain Fell Upon Us
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1135-713-02
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.


Written for the contest, Verse of Metaphors 3
sponsor, Lu Loo, Inspiration #3 Image

First Place

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