Honoring Your Poetry...

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I give it 5 stars


Loura sits in the front porch swing
waiting for Morgan, her soul mate lover.
Last year they had walked in the spring
down past the clay pit and sat in the clover.

All summer he came in the afternoon
and lured her to love with a heart winning smile.
Once in the evening with an autumn moon
they walked to the pit beside the rock pile.

That was the day he told her good-bye.
He was going away to a job in the city.
She lived for three days with a tear in her eye.
She no longer primped or tried to look pretty.

All winter she pined and wept for his sight.
Asleep, her dream was a nightmare with terror and pain.
Until spring came, her heart was at midnight.
Then new growth on the branches gave hope again.

Awake, now, the dream draws magic from air.
No one sees Morgan but Loura his lover.
She will titter and whisper to an empty chair.
He's dead in the clay pit down by the clover.