That day in May, when I was young,
I met the one.
He was new in town,
starting life on his own,
looking capable and grown.
I, the waitress with long dark hair.
He, the customer, so handsome and kind.
We smiled, we talked, we made a date.
Followed a summer full of
sunny days at the beach,
with bonfires and dancing in the evening light.
But only one year, then he had to leave.
We said goodby
as he left for war,
hoping survival was his fate at that door.
Battles do damage to peaceful and serene.
The body returned, thinner and lean.
followed more slowly by an injured soul.
Eventually the hope returned,
some healing did arrive.
We married joyfully, gratefully
sharing decades of life.
He is always the one
I am so happy to see
A survivor, my husband
and protector of me.
Okay…well that made me cry.
This might be the one for the poetry contest.
Robin
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Glad you liked it – assuming crying is good in this case. You are my reviewer for my poetry entries next January. Thanks.
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Yes! Good cry! There are two “the’s in the last stanza I just noticed.
I love the last stanza best.
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