He said to her that he was going for a short while <br />then he waved his hand as he crossed the stile. <br />The moor looked so lovely the day he went, that <br />was three years ago and six weeks past lent. <br />Everyday she waited and stared across the moor <br />hoping he would come back a better man than before. <br />As the months turned into years her heart became <br />full of fears because rumours were spreading <br />and walls have ears. Everytime she went to the <br />market place she hid her face because she felt so out <br />of place. The village folk they knew the story, but he was <br />still her husband who had war time glory. In her heart she <br />believed he would return, but she was young and she had <br />a lot to learn. <br />He loved the girls and he made them cry, but she was <br />different the apple of his eye. At least she had that to <br />hold her together whenever she felt down and under the <br />weather. Her love for him got stronger everyday as her <br />own life just seemed to drift away, she would walk the <br />moor day after day but all this was doing was taking her <br />breath away. Summer and winter she did not care about <br />the weather, if just once more they could be together. <br />The sun was beautiful and the sky was clear and in the <br />distance she could hear someone saying 'hello my dear! <br />Her heart missed a beat she knew at once there was no <br />other, but her darling Thomas her Husband and lover. <br />He was shellshocked and lame, trench warfare was to <br />blame and many a solider returned home the same; <br />and some even forgot their name.<br /><br />sylvia spencer<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-patriotic-tale/
