Each day at first I thought he would return yet;
each nightfall found me waiting still, and cold.
And when I wept, face turned toward the sunset
some thought they saw me crying tears of gold.

In empty hours filled by fruitless yearning
the questions 'why' and 'where' pierce like a dart.
Nine realms I searched till soul and feet were burning
- the only place I found him was my heart.

To know my love he was nor first nor last one,
but of all lovers, only husband he.
With only memories of him to grasp on,
immortal years seem stretching long to me.

They shake their heads and tell me to forget him,
that life goes on, and all its pleasures too.
But I shall never cease to mourn and miss him,
because he was the one I loved most true.

© 2004 Michaela Macha

- This poem is in the Common Domain and may be freely distributed provided it remains unchanged, including copyright notice and this License -