Now - our home is extremely lonesome <br />Since my son went away. <br />Although the sun is shining, <br />The sky seems dull and gray. <br />The room that he once occupied <br />And tended with diligent care, <br />Has sort of lost its luster, <br />But the remnants of his youth are still there. <br /> <br />During his formative years and more <br />He'd been living at my side. <br />I can see him standing near me, <br />My heart filled with the utmost pride. <br />Seemed as if some timid apparition <br />Had come strolling toward me, <br />And I clasped it close and hugged it, <br />Elated and proud as I could be. <br /> <br />Oh, the sound of his voice and laughter, <br />Oh, the sparkle in his eyes, <br />Full of joy, eagerness, and confidence, <br />How those youth years went slipping by? <br />Somehow - the thought of his demise <br />Never came to him or me. <br />I always prayed for his safety in a war <br />In a land far across the sea. <br /> <br />So, I know amid the realm of our community, <br />Of our household so thoughtful and fair, <br />My son's soul is beckoning me, <br />I can hear it everywhere, <br />In the stillness and in the darkness, <br />As about the house I roam, <br />The melancholy voice is always the same, <br />' I'm coming mom, I'm coming home.'<br /><br />Joseph T. Renaldi<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-grieving-mother/
