Poetry By Ken in Rainbow Colors

In a drafty empty room she sits
Rocking alone she knits,
A cat at here feet softly purrs,
Outside a tempest stirs.

Into the wee hours of morning
In a black dress of mourning,
She sits in the circle of firelight
Through the long winter's night.

She stares at the flickering flames
As a painting in a blackened frame,
The widow slowly rocks to and fro
Made warm by the hearth's glow.

Winds moan a haunting refrain
Against frosted window panes,
She tugs her shawl tightly around,
Listening to the hum of wind sounds.

Taking her knitting from the floor
She begins her task once more,
Passing the lonely night away,
Just as other yesterdays.

Reflections of her troubled mind
Wind slowly backward in time,
Faded bits and pieces of each year
Like worn photographs appear.

In rhythm with the mantel clock
Tick-tock, she begins to rock,
A new dawning will arrive soon
To chase away the silvery moon.

Perhaps she'll get a letter today,
Maybe someone will stop on their way,
Perhaps the silent telephone will ring,
The wind howls and sings.

©Author: Kenneth Ellison 12-06-05

Song title: "Rose Of Tralee"

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