Array ( [sid] => 185483 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Letters [time] => 2018-10-01 18:57:52 [hometext] => Holding hands across the miles. [bodytext] => For my husbands mother, back East....

A tiny widow lives alone; in the basement of her home
Whose wrinkled hands no longer knit; or make the quilts she gave as gifts.
I tried to make it better; so I wrote a letter.

Poems and photos, daily tales; She cant write; her hands too frail.
Its a one-way conversation. Sent without an invitation!
To say wed not forget her, I kept on writing letters.

She shares them now with family; Rereads them often they tell me.
There is nothing we can get her; she enjoys receiving better.

Such a simple thing to do. Who will do the same for you?
To break the sound of silence falling; to answer when there is no calling;
Words connect us all together; walking toward the brink of never. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 76 [topic] => 23 [informant] => softerware [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => FamilyPoems ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Letters


Letters
Date: Monday, 1st October 2018 @ 06:57:52 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: softerware
For my husbands mother, back East....

A tiny widow lives alone; in the basement of her home
Whose wrinkled hands no longer knit; or make the quilts she gave as gifts.
I tried to make it better; so I wrote a letter.

Poems and photos, daily tales; She cant write; her hands too frail.
Its a one-way conversation. Sent without an invitation!
To say wed not forget her, I kept on writing letters.

She shares them now with family; Rereads them often they tell me.
There is nothing we can get her; she enjoys receiving better.

Such a simple thing to do. Who will do the same for you?
To break the sound of silence falling; to answer when there is no calling;
Words connect us all together; walking toward the brink of never.

This poem is Copyright © softerware


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