A Grieving Mother
Now - our home is extremely lonesome
by Joseph T. Renaldi
Since my son went away.
Although the sun is shining,
The sky seems dull and gray.
The room that he once occupied
And tended with diligent care,
Has sort of lost its luster,
But the remnants of his youth are still there.
During his formative years and more
He'd been living at my side.
I can see him standing near me,
My heart filled with the utmost pride.
Seemed as if some timid apparition
Had come strolling toward me,
And I clasped it close and hugged it,
Elated and proud as I could be.
Oh, the sound of his voice and laughter,
Oh, the sparkle in his eyes,
Full of joy, eagerness, and confidence,
How those youth years went slipping by?
Somehow - the thought of his demise
Never came to him or me.
I always prayed for his safety in a war
In a land far across the sea.
So, I know amid the realm of our community,
Of our household so thoughtful and fair,
My son's soul is beckoning me,
I can hear it everywhere,
In the stillness and in the darkness,
As about the house I roam,
The melancholy voice is always the same,
' I'm coming mom, I'm coming home.'