Dream Come True Poem by Louise Tredoux

When I look at my friends, all
bereft of sweet words, never
hearing a whispered word of
comfort or love; only harsh
voices raised in accusing
argument; I’m appalled

I tell them to join me in the search for
for sweet words, whether pronounced
by strangers or not - but one confided
in me – ‘As long as I believe that every-
body is as nasty as hubby, I can carry
on, but when

I suspect there might be another kind of
man; I start crying, too sorry for myself to
carry my cross’ – No, thank you, I never
want to see sweet words again, they only
appeared to me when I was small; un-
willing to see my friend giving in to
bitterness;

Reality is bitter and harsh and cold and
empty - I cried; Rudi came home, in his
face I saw bliss; I cried again; he was
concerned, What is it, Little One? – he
asked sweetly, as only he can

I could only reply with a kiss; I shall
never give up my love ideal; never
forget the life Rudi brought – even
when I’m forced to live without him;
he is MY dream come true…