Recalling My Voice (Sonnet after silence)

She wandered off; I called her back to me,
My friend, the long companion of my heart,
But even as I reached to catch her hand,
She turned, silently refusing, did depart.
So long I stood here, empty-hand-and-hearted,
Not knowing when or whether she’d return,
But only waiting, sad and still not breathing,
Till Chance taught me what I needed to learn:
She leaves when worn out gardens bore her senseless;
She won’t return to same-old dry dead fields.
There’s work to do to lure her back to dance here
Amid new-planted lilies and fresh yields.
The lexicastle’s built on a foundation
Of concrete work to make her habitation.

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About janemwoodman

Singer, writer, restaurant reviewer, urban farmer, devoted lover of my husband....old and getting happier all the time.
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