WHISPERS
Words were but fleeting whispers heard as in her arms he sought his rest
embraced so lovingly he fell asleep with his head on her breast
and in his slumber he did dream – and no visions of splendour saw
but saw instead the bloodied stream, and heard the cries, and guns of war.
Words were but fleeting whispers heard as in her arms he was held tight.
The faintest smile softened her lips – she’d seen hard labour through the night,
now in her arms her new babe slept, she’d counted every little toe.
The red peach fuzz on his small head , genetic genes from long ago.
Words were but fleeting whispers heard as night time dark gave into day
the old man sat beside her bed begging the woman there to stay.
The young bloke begged him not to fret, and tried to offer comfort there
whilst inside all he did was sob – for life should not be this unfair.
Words were but fleeting whispers heard. Another place - another time,
she saw them, though they saw her not. She sorrowed from her world sublime.
She embraced both so tenderly; they felt the breezes gentle touch
but faintly on the wind they heard her voice..I love you both so much.
Maureen Clifford © 10/11