PAUL
by Robin Shwedo
©: Robin Shwedo, 2004
The time we spend apart
is bleak.
I'm weak,
as though I have no heart
or feeling left inside.
I hide
my fears,
knowing depression here
will be misread by those
whose side
did I
come to see. Though I chose
to see my next of kin,
and I
did fly
to be with them, time when
I should be overjoyed,
I sink
within
myself. Beautiful boy,
red hair, blue eyes, smile pure
a glance,
per chance,
his dad's fair looks, for sure,
mom's temperament, both love,
I see
these three
beautiful ones betrothed.
Soul mates, like us, they need
to be
able
to see our love, stable.
Yet, time we spend apart
is bleak.
I'm weak,
as though I have no heart.
And when, at last, I'm home,
I say
I'll stay,
to share love – not alone.
This was written while visiting family, while my better-half stayed home. This is part of a growing collection tentatively titled Painted Words.
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