8 years strong (for JBM)

on Friday evenings
when that buzzer rings
her palms get a bit damp
her wounded heart sings

she quickly checks her hair
making sure it’s free of frizz
before admitting the only person
who sees her for who she truly is

he never enters empty-handed
he brings his smile with the flowers & wine
& when he wraps his arms around her
everything in her life is just fine

leaning against the kitchen counter
she pretends not to watch his much-loved face
as she drinks that 1st glass of wine
while arranging her flowers in a vase

casually they talk – they share stories
about their respective work week
revelling in his Scottish brogue,
cause she loves to hear him speak

a big man he is
with a presence that fills the room
for the moment, she is safe
the demons can’t enforce their gloom

how did she get so lucky?
to find a man who does not dread,
a man who is not frightened
of the darkness that lives in her head

he’s stayed with her through joblessness
remaining steadfast in belief
now he holds her close at night
as she struggles with loss & grief

he doesn’t like to see her cry
but he knows enough to let her be
he does what little things he can
he’s a man who’ll never flee

many battles she’s fought in this decade
she’s wept through many a night
but she’ll win – she has no doubts
his love will lead her into the light

copyright © 2017 KPM

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