For Return He Must

The leather boots,

stamped and marched,

those weary eyes searched,

when all left,

waiting on an empty station,

with frail legs and wrinkled hands,

sat there, a mother,

maybe the next one,

maybe tomorrow,

as the train whistled away,

he's a valiant,

he's a warrior,

I cannot lose hope,

in pride I must live,

O! my perfect one,

I know, return you must,

for I am waiting,

for all the prayers in the deep of the night,

for all those days when I slept hugging your shirt,

for all those times when I thought I heard you knock at the door,

Be safe be well,

be strong,

A lone tear trickles down,

I mustn't cry , I mustn't cry,

"dead" they say , I do not believe ,

you're my stalwart,

with her tender grey locks ,

every day she saw,

fathers , lovers & sons,

every day she sat there,

broken in spirit,

but firm in hope.

For return he must,

for return he must...

PEBBLES

Pebbles black , grey , brown,

held tightly in the palms,

as some of them fall loose,

tiny palms moist with holding them,

pockets full of seashells,

and broken glass worn by the tides that hit it for years,

with feet free to roam around,

raced kids on the shore,

"I win , I win " as they shouted,

with tumbling feet,

hair plastered to the forehead with moisture,

loose curls tied in ribbon & satin,

"wait for me" , rosy cheeks flushed,

as the tiny people in their tiny bubble,

knew not a worry in the world,

leaving back small footprints,

to be washed away with sequence of tides,

"I'll mark our spot with this pebble "

promising to remember it till the next time,

as each pebble laid on the shore ,

stamped with moments ,

stamped with dreams,

left there , to be found again.