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Poetry |
Clair and Elsie ~ 1940.
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Coming HomeI sat at the window and what did I see?A mocking bird perched in the tip of a tree Pouring forth songs so glorious and free: Out on the hillside, a drift of starry bloom Scattering in the dusk its sweet perfume. Skies softly colored from the sun that had set, And birds flying homeward to mates waiting yet. Then husband coming quickly down the bordered lane, Hastening his foot-steps to sooner speak my name. Nothing more I wished to see, For he was coming home to me. Though I sat at the window and listened long, There came no lilt of a mocking-bird’s song. My eager eyes searching far and wide, Saw no drift of white on the hillside. Skies were shrouded in blankets of gray’ The birds had all flown to regions far away. Yet something I saw made my heart beat fast, For down the old lane he came at last; And what more could I wish to see, Than husband coming home to me? Elsié P. Barnett Return to Top |