The Return

They turned him loose; he bowed his head,
      A felon, bent and grey.
     His face was even as the Dead,
      He had no word to say.

He sought the home of his old love,
      To look on her once more;
     And where her roses breathed above,
      He cowered beside the door.

She sat there in the shining room;
      Her hair was silver grey.
     He stared and stared from out the gloom;
      He turned to go away.

Her roses rustled overhead.
      She saw, with sudden start.
     "I knew that you would come," she said,
      And held him to her heart.

Her face was rapt and angel-sweet;
      She touched his hair of grey;
          .    .    .    .    .
     BUT HE, SOB-SHAKEN, AT HER FEET,
      COULD ONLY PRAY AND PRAY

I uploaded this on warrior nation about 2 years ago
and am repeating it again in memory of a pal who lived it
and for his wife who waited RIP
Peace

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