She sits, waiting,
as time slowly
passes.
The rocker creaks,
gently, dreaming,
day’s consumed.
Night falls
unaware is she
childhood days
flowers gay
Mother, warm,
loving…
Sleep…restful
sleep.
Day rises,
then is gone.
Twice the same
before they came.
Found her there,
smiling…
but no longer
there.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Gently rocking to her end in peace and serenity, surely one of the best ways to go. well done. Regards Dave T.