Stood in the rain and I debated to stay, to go and so I waited, 'til the day became the night and I realized with certain fright, that you would not come. I gripped my hands and I stifled thoughts that with my heart you'd trifled; that I the calm, the undemanding would be left in the rain standing and you would not come. My hair became a matted mess and glued to me became my dress. Powerless was I to move my feet as water spat out from the street. But you did not come. Afternoon and school children passed and when heaving, I'd seen the last, I knew then but could not mention the cruelty of your intention-- that you would not come. Now the city has gone to sleep and my own company I keep. But I will stay and man my post, sleeping in a box at most. Maybe then you'll come. Then you'll come. You'll come. Please COME
For Your New Home
May this always be a place of peace and each room a calming refuge. May this always be a place of happiness and each room a joyous respite. May this always be a place of love and each room happy heart. May this always be a place of rest and each room a gentle welcome. And may this always be a place of dreams and each room the coming true.
2 thoughts on “Two Poems by Pamela Tyree Griffin”
I loved “For Your New Home”. A kind of solace and comfort.
Thank you for your kind words