She sat on her front porch In her favorite chair with a glass of wine She gazed at the sunset along the horizon Silent tears running down her face
She remembers the time these moments were shared With the person who shared her life Her passion Her love
Her sobs came in bunches as she pictured his face The tender touch of his lips upon her body The firm but gentleness of his hands The way he made love to her
The house is no longer a sanctuary No longer a place of happiness His voice echoes among the walls Her heart flutters at the sound
As she sits and listens to his voice Her tears continue to flow Her soulmate, her lifeline Gone
(c)aa2018
Anthony, you've done a beautiful job with the framework of this poem. I noticed a repeating pattern in the 4 line stanzas echoing the four walls of a room, and the emptiness felt by the widow described herein. It's as if her words echo back to her off the four walls, the four directions around her, yet not above and below her. That part has been severed by the loss of her soulmate. I also noticed throughout the poem, the final word enjambed is often 4 letters long: face, love, gone. I could be reading too much into this, but I think there are layers that the visual framework add to the text of the words used and the words left out or implied between the lines. Thanks for sharing!
Wonderfully written.
Gorgeous write ☓