A Pleasant Sunday Morning...
The Zealous Blue Eyes...
With Light at the end of the Tunnel...
Looked unto his Mother..
Trying to decipher, In vain...
Her busy, serious face...
Gold ringed fingers...
Tap Danced, On the Steering Wheel...
The Boy wanted to ask...
'Where to? ...Not Back There...
It's Sunday! '
(Her Preoccupied Expression
Advised - Better Not...)
The Glimpse of Hope...
All burnt to a Cinder...
When she drove her Chevrolet..
To the Glaring Edifice...
'4KIDS DAYCARE'
She Slicked up his Slacks...
Neatened his Shirts...
Pecked on his cheek...
'Love you, Honey...'
Hollow Words....
(A Rueful Thought)
And Walked Away...
Forbearing...
Tearful Eyes in deep thought...
'Am I Loved? '....
Sounds well... Probably set over the feudal systems.....
Cute story cleverly put together...mummy must go to work, the ending put it all together well...regards
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
great imagery..........full of wonderful emotions great write :)