Your eyes are two oval mirrors, how glassy they appear

You hide your breaking heart as you gently pull me near

John you’re exhausted when you take my hand and come inside

Please my darling, if something’s wrong; in me you can confide.

I cradle your red hands in mine and they’re as icy as can be

There is bath water waiting for you, but first you must talk to me.

Let me see your chilblains, goodness me they are so sore!

You must take better care of yourself as you slave in the bitter outdoors.

There are dark circles around your eyes, you’re shaking and in need of heat

Your nightshirt is warming by the fire, the bump and I will take a seat

Goodness me you haven’t eaten, shall I make you a cup of tea?

John, you must maintain your strength, enabling you to support our family.

©Sophie Bowns 2011-2014

 

 

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22 thoughts on “Overworked

      1. Nicely written, it sounds like a prose. Good work, that’s a good piece

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