The Lonely Widow
Posted: Wed Feb 01, 2012 4:45 pm
THE LONELY WIDOW
Sue Pearce ©
The night descended slowly with a full moon in it's hand,
a surge of silver streamed across the land.
Another summer evening spent alone, without her man.
Idle fingers twist and turn her wedding band.
Many nights they sat in silence as the bush sounds softly played,
for they both enjoyed the chorus of the night.
Crickets chirping, swamp frogs calling and the haunting sound of owls,
often heard, but rarely venturing into sight.
She leaves behind the solace of a well worn rocking chair,
takes the path that twists and turns towards the stream.
There is something in the air that's pulling, pleading her to come
and she questions "is this real or just a dream?'
She is drawn back to the presence by a swooshing, close by sound
as the broad wings of a night owl power by.
She stands in awe and wonders at the freedom of it's life,
and she yearns to join him there, no more to cry.
She hears the windmill whirring, such a peaceful, pleasant sound.
She reflects on what has been and what has gone.
A voice from nowhere whispers "it's now time to set you free,
like a windmill ever-turning life goes on"
Her breath remains suspended as a strength within takes hold
and she stares as silver beams on water glow.
She feels the strength and power of a night owl in full flight
and the wind beneath her wings begins to blow.
A calmness overtakes her as she treads the path back home.
An inner peace within she's finally found.
She feels her loved one's guidance, feels his presence by her side.
As a night owl hovers by without a sound.
Sue Pearce ©
The night descended slowly with a full moon in it's hand,
a surge of silver streamed across the land.
Another summer evening spent alone, without her man.
Idle fingers twist and turn her wedding band.
Many nights they sat in silence as the bush sounds softly played,
for they both enjoyed the chorus of the night.
Crickets chirping, swamp frogs calling and the haunting sound of owls,
often heard, but rarely venturing into sight.
She leaves behind the solace of a well worn rocking chair,
takes the path that twists and turns towards the stream.
There is something in the air that's pulling, pleading her to come
and she questions "is this real or just a dream?'
She is drawn back to the presence by a swooshing, close by sound
as the broad wings of a night owl power by.
She stands in awe and wonders at the freedom of it's life,
and she yearns to join him there, no more to cry.
She hears the windmill whirring, such a peaceful, pleasant sound.
She reflects on what has been and what has gone.
A voice from nowhere whispers "it's now time to set you free,
like a windmill ever-turning life goes on"
Her breath remains suspended as a strength within takes hold
and she stares as silver beams on water glow.
She feels the strength and power of a night owl in full flight
and the wind beneath her wings begins to blow.
A calmness overtakes her as she treads the path back home.
An inner peace within she's finally found.
She feels her loved one's guidance, feels his presence by her side.
As a night owl hovers by without a sound.
