Waiting For Mum
Peering through the bedroom window,
Yellow street lights and falling snow,
Elena asked Fred, the garden gnome,
“When mummy would come home?”
The gnome smiled as if he knew,
But stared quietly at the other two,
His colourful brothers Jim and john,
Who looked busy guarding the lawn.
Grim silence spoke from all around,
someone say “is mum home bound?“,
The wind drew patterns as it blew,
Can anyone read what wind knew?
Elena’s Mum stood silent at her work,
A large glass window was her desk,
Mascara, lip stick, made up to please,
Those passing men, to earn her fees.
Beneath the young flesh put on sale,
Was mother’s heart and a tearful tale,
Her eyes trained dry to save the face,
Wet mascara would be a disgrace!
Ringing Church bells, sacred hymns,
Holy books and political whims,
Bear no answers to Elena’s plight
Waiting for her mother late at night!
Each waiting.on a window of their own,
At different parts of this vast town,
Will someone say how this could end?
Can someone find them a true friend?
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