by B-Miles Jackson
He sat there alone,
Not speaking -- solemn faced,
Flowers still on the table,
Outside the window,
A light breeze blew,
Causing the curtain to part.
The clock ticked,
Then chimed the hour.
He checked the door,
Moved near the window,
And waited in his own salience.
As the outside world moved on,
Hope deep inside grew,
Warming his heart,
Soften his expression.
Closing his eyes,
He saw her there,
Happy, radiantly beautifully,
Surrounded by flowers,
Eyes open -- he knew not to wait.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Barbara B-Miles Jackson, born in 1948, grew up in Texas, studied poetry as a student in school. The poetry of other poets inspired me to go forward, changing myself when I could not change my situation. I one child and two grandchildren., Later needing a way of expression and focus, I turned to writing poems. Writing reminds me, we must travel through life situations with as much grace and dignity as possible., I started writing in 1995 for an Open Poetry Contest with National and International Library of Poetry. Most In the US and other in Europe.
Last updated April 19, 2015