Poetry

THE LITTLE THINGS

By 18th December 2007December 9th, 2019No Comments

Five years ago
I met this wonderful man
His name is Brian
He has very soft hands.

While he is away
I often think of the little things
He has blonde hair and blue eyes
And he is gone to spread his wings

I miss his touch
I miss his sigh
I even miss
the days he makes me cry

Brian sends me emails
to tell me about his day
He often wonders why it is
that he has been sent so far away

I tell him every time we talk
It’s not for us to know
Keep having these feelings in your heart
so when you get home, there’s lots to show

The mission at hand
is to train to be a good soldier
when you get home
I can touch you on the shoulder

It’s these little things, you see
that are often taken for granted
but when they are gone away
it leaves us all empty-handed

I lie wake
and think about these little things at night
and pray for the day
that he comes home to hold me tight.

Christie Bowman

Author Christie Bowman

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