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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I tell the tale of a widow, aged only twenty-three, in this I have first-hand knowledge, she was mother to me. We lived in a house by the waves, father lay in an ocean grave, and many men would vie to ‘save’ a woman so pretty. So met a young man named Calvin, who’d seen twenty-six years, he lifted her form father’s loss, helped dry away the tears. She lived in sin, within his arms, he seemed so helpless to her charms, it left her neighbors quite alarmed, and some did speak their fears. They whispered that young Calvin was a lout and a drunkard, seen him carousing in taverns, and oh, the tales they heard. He’d have a drink, then want two more, Bbow all his money on the whores, the damndest rake along the shore, these stories did disturb. But ma chose not to believe them, tried to pay it no mind, even though as a sailor he was gone months at a time. She clung hard to her point-of-view that her Calvin was ever-true, an outlook shared by very few, they thought the man malign. Calvin had been gone for four months, and rumor had just grown, they said he’d sired bastard kids, other women he’d known. It soon became talk of the town, we kept hearing it all around, and ma’s depression did abound, heard her piteous moans. It finally came to a head when I had turned just five, a neighbor came racing to us, Calvin she had espied! Her man had not traveled that far, he was down in a local down, her reputation, it was marred, she shut herself inside. It was only a month later when he ‘returned’ from work, and mother, she lashed out at him, called him ‘liar’ and ‘jerk.’ She told him that he had been seen drinking with ladies crass and mean, she declared it an ‘awful dream,’ so massive was her hurt... CONCLUDES IN PART II.
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