Bridge Over Troubled Waters
I love you more today than yesterday
within these weathered walls on sallow earth,
and when I pick the last of spring’s bouquet,
I’ll hope for your return and love’s rebirth.
These rooms seem dark; your garden’s overgrown.
The weeds now blanket our once trodden path
down to our sparkling lake where I alone
can see the murky undercurrent"s wrath.
Sunk in my chair, I stretch to glimpse beyond
the dingy window pane and gnarly tree,
down to the shore of memories thought fond.
Our bridge, now washed away, I long to see.
If you come home again, a bridge above
your troubles, I will be with all my love.
5/13/20
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2020
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