A Lone Mothers Evening Hours
The old mother consigned to the
Ageds Home
Pined and pined for visits from
her son
Which were few and few and
nearly none
Yore it was she had a glimpse
of him
At every foot sound at
the floor
She would hasten to open the
door
Ever disillusioned he was
not there
She would sink into her
rickety chair
The phone rang a day, it
was her son
A brave Cadet was he in the
Army garrison
To say he is on orders to go to
Afganistan
And so off he went at dutys clarion.
Grieving mother resigned to her fate
Passed her lonesome hours with her granny clock
Whose tick tick tick fell loud on her
ears
Amidst the sombre silence of the Home
She drowned her sorrows in
fantasies
Envisioned the return of her
son soon
Bringing honour and glory for gallantry
Winning too medals and crown
And The day came when the knock at
the door
Brought a man in uniform with
saddenned face
To announce the death of her son at
Kandahar
Shot in a brave charge
against enemy barrage
Devasted, dizzy, world swimming round
Instantly she found herself bound
To a land of sparkling beauty and
dazzling splendour
In unison with serene unsullied
grandeur
At dusk was interred the old lady
In the chappels church yard with the
epitaph
Here lies poor Margarita
Who had boundless love
For her only son killed
in battle
Left to unite with him
In the Land of Lords
glory
AMEN
~ K Raman ~
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