In lands far far away,
In a time before time remembers,
A story was born to stay
in the minds that then held sway.
It was a normal day that dawned forth
with the grass turning green
and flowers blooming fresh,
as an old cart pulled up
to the door painted in green.
Odd was the creature that stepped out-
bent over with age or with gout,
holding a stick close by the chin,
it hobbled up to the door painted in green.
Knock! Knock! Knock! sounded he.
With an impatient wrist and an irritated sigh,
it waited for the welcome
and that which is closed, for it to open.
A rustle of an apron
A clink of the locks
And the door swung open
And a smile shone through the light.
No smile in return did the old one give
No hand to shake did the bent one offer
Just he knocked his stick in anger
against the ground that held his feet.
Then he opened his mouth
to hiss the words to peel the smile
off the tired little face…
for tired it was, a tired little face,
tired of the work, tired of the struggle
tired of the effort to get through the days.
“He’s dead,” rasped the creature
in a voice full of displeasure,
in a tone meant to hurt.
The smile dropped indeed
as grief slipped through her shields,
as the tears held back
o’er the years, began to fall unheed.
The creature turned his back
left the city for good.
But, his memory stayed alive
in the tired little face and its tired depthless eyes.
And so life went on…
like dragging blistered feet over dirty little pebbles
like scratching bleeding hands over thorny prickly brambles.
Every night passed with no sweet dreams.
Every morning opened up no new realms.
That’s when the knocker sounded
as the sun set over the hills
and the day drawed to a close.
Tired feet shuffled
Baby cries stifled
And the door opened wide
to a face streaked with tears
hopeless eyes lifted
a hopeless gaze shifted
and it finally landed
on a face almost forgotten.
“You’re back,” she gasped
in shock, in surprise,
“They said you died,
but here…you’ve come back!”
So saying, she stepped into arms
open for her sake;
she leaned into the lips
waiting for her kiss.
“I was afraid, I was so afraid,” she sobbed,
“I thought the war had taken you
and God had forsaken you…”
“Appetite had left us since,
peace was forever lost,
the baby would cry all night
and i wouldn’t know what to do!”
“So many tears I spilt
over the memory of you- my soul, my spirit,
and here you come waltzing in
on this morning ever so late!”
and she beat her tiny fists
against his broad weathered chest.
He said nothing, but held her tight
and tears flowed down his cheeks
as he felt her terror tear through his heart.
At that moment he lifted her head
and with a fleeting kiss, he said,
“I’m so sorry, my dear girl, my love,
tell me, to make up, what it is that I can do?”
Then she said,
hope in her eyes,
love in her breath,
“Just promise never to leave again.”
He smiled through his tears
kissed her wrinkles clear
and promised his sweetheart,
“Never again, my love, never ever…”