She Is Waiting By the Shore
A cheery fire so warm and bright,
But no comfort does it bring as he sits there all alone and quiet.
Starring into the flames that flicker and dance,
Pictures of her fly through his mind, as his mind is locked in this trance.
For sixty some odd years he had called her his wife,
She was all that he had lived for, ever wanted, she was his life!
And now he’s got a pain that he doesn’t know how to shake,
For she was the air he breathed, the reason for every step that he would take.
A knock up on his door as he wonders who it is,
I hope it’s not those pranksters, those misbehaving kids.
He opened the door and there they stood holding food of every sorts,
These ornery kids from the neighborhood actually had a heart.
They all filed in with condolences and warm stories that they had brought,
As tears ran down their young faces it was kindness these children sought.
She would always encourage their efforts and often bake them a pie,
He would laugh at her for being so soft, and often wonder why.
And to that she would reply, love is the key to overcoming bitterness if you just give it a try.
And that day I saw the proof, those kids standing there right before my eyes.
He said I know she was not a saint but to me she’s that and more,
And I know that she’ll be waiting when I reach that Golden Shore.
Copyright © Ronald Bingham | Year Posted 2009
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