Another Perspective

I think at first perhaps she pitied me With my fumbling teenaged kissing But to her as a separated mother I provided some love she was missing. She risked her very reputation. I, perhaps, risked the beating of my life For though he no longer wanted her Demanded she be chaste obedient wife I would slip through the dark village streets Carefully check the area around her door Then give our special knock and soon I‘d be in her arms and bed once more. I was saved by the rain one time For I took the bus instead of walking And saw his two mates in a doorway Watching the houses, standing talking. I sat and watched them for hours From across the road in a small bar Until he came to collect them, All driving off in his old car. And she was frightened when I arrived, Knew he’d been watching, silently wept. I remember a very tender loving, Dressed very quietly as she still slept To leave very early the next morning Trying to beat dawn and sunrise; For this was a farming village and there Could be many early waking eyes. She taught me to be a lover and I loved her But I was still just a green and callow teen. One day my knock was unanswered As though our love had never been. In such a small village There was no chance we wouldn’t meet So I learned to nod and return her smile And we passed as friends on the street.