Sunday, 6 July 2014

What is the secret to a good relationship? .......listening with patience and kindness...

 
When they met she was just a slip of a girl
he; swept her away when on the dance floor they gave it a whirl.
In those days; before mobile phones and text messages,
arrangements were made following proper premises.
 
He used to pick her up in in an old beat-up truck
but she didn't care he was just so "the devil may care".
 
Gable, Bogart, or Grant he wasn't
but always on time,
with a big smile,
dependable and honest was her sweet Miles.
 
When they first met words came so easy
for hours they spoke, she never felt uneasy.
He was full of ideas, dreams and visions
there was no end to his many ambitions.
 
They married in a chapel high on a hill
he started work in the local mill.
 
She stayed at home like her mother before her
minding the children, raising them proper.
 
Years went on by, no clouds in the sky
days filled with laughter, and blueberry pie.
Til one rainy Thursday when it all had to change
Miles had been called; the world had gone strange.
 
Some fella called Adolf, German he was 
declared war on Europe; soldiers began to march.
 
Miles left; still a man of ambition
 returned a few years later
a man of contrition.
 
She tried all she could, the children did too
to find the old Miles
they all loved him so.
But no matter how hard they all tried,
something in Miles had broken, his joy had died.
 
Days became weeks, weeks became years
still in the nights, Miles shivered with fear.
She would hold him real tight, stroke his hair:
"It's alright dear Miles, I'm here, I'm here".
 
Then one summers evening, the children asleep
Miles began weeping, tears from the deep.
Stuttering, sputtering, out the words came
describing his nightmares, describing his shame.
 
For hours she listened as he poured out his heart
sharing the memories that was tearing him apart.
 
Finally sunrise; all golden and still
 announcing new hope, new life to begin.
 
They watched the sun rising, heard the birds sing,
huddled together on their home made swing.
Miles took her hand and put it in his
looked her in the eyes and whispered this:
"Thank you my dear for allowing me to share,
my many pains, so heavy to bear.
Although my joy I yet have to find
hope now colours my troubled mind."
 
And so Miles finally arrived "home" at last
leaving behind his painful, troubled, past.
 
 
Epilogue: Every Sunday afternoon Miles and his wife drive into town and have a meal at the local diner. They hardly say a word to each other; seemingly lost in their own worlds; but Betty, the proprietor, told me that they seem to need no words.

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