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THE WIDOW

Here I rest with eyes closed, our child plays at my feet,

Reflecting back to youthful days, in repose upon this seat.

 

The home is neat and tidy, only toys across the floor,

From the shadow of my dream, I hear him coming to the door.

 

Remembering back to when we met on a summer’s morn,

As he patrolled the Village Street, with love my heart was torn.

 

A glance from him as I passed by, then our eyes met,

He said, “Hello” as I smiled, our destiny was set.

 

To be romanced and courted with tenderness and care,

After a time to marry at the Church in the Village Square.

 

A joyous event for everyone was our wedding day,

But as beknown it heralded him being sent away.

 

To patrol in other places and many an Ulster vale,

Facing dangers lurking there, each day a stirring tale.

 

Behind the door of our abode a silent prayer I’d say,

To keep him free from harm, each hour and every day.

 

Then one afternoon in autumn time he did not appear,

Seeing his colleagues at the gate, I was filled with fear.

 

Looking up at them in turn, then to each face again,

I saw the strain and anguish holding back the pain.

 

With awkwardness they told me, how he’d met his end,

Nothing more they could do; death you cannot mend.

 

Sudden strike of the belfry bell in the old Church Clock,

Reminder of us together, me in my wedding frock.

 

Fully awake from my slumber; I dreamt him at the door;

Eyes misting with sadness; he is not here anymore.

 

I lift our child and embrace him, placing him down on my knee,

He laughs as I think of my dear one; the Father he’ll never see.

 

Monty Alexander 28.8.96

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