Poetry

She Cries His Name

Alone she sleeps on a dark winters night
Dreams and nightmares does she fight
Her husband gone to war
Alone, she cries his name

She hugs the pillow where he last lay
An eon ago, now so many days
They then had been as one
Under a united sun

Afghanistan he has gone to serve
Only a few lines has she from him heard
She fears she will never see him again
The last she’ll hear from him by a pen

What he’s doing there she doesn’t know
Only what she’s seen on the news, seeds sown
He fights for a freedom of the poor and the repressed
But back home it’s the loved ones that are stressed

She dreads that knock on the door
And all that it will mean for her
She has no wish to play the waiting game
And no wish to cry his name

But alas she cries his name
Alas, she still cries his name…

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Published by

Darren Greenidge

I'm a thinker, listener, a "question's pretty much everything" type of person. A seeker of knowledge, always restless, yet seeks the calm in life. I love writing in all forms and am in the process of completing a number of ongoing projects. I love the craft of writing and the possibilities it holds. A magic carpet through the mind. I love pretty much all creative arts, music, film and theatre the leading ones. Born in Hertfordshire in England, my family Irish, Welsh and English, I currently reside in Edinburgh, in Scotland. I'm drawn to coastal and mountain regions where I like to go to think and draw inspiration from. Ireland is a place that's dear to me, and I try to get back to see family and friends as much as possible. My interests are wide and broad, too many to mention here, but history, archaeology, criminology, music and film are just some of those things I love. I hope you enjoy my ramblings on here as that's what they are really. I'll let my fingers do the ''talking...''

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