The Watcher
A frail old lady bent and gray
She gazes out into the west.
To her it seems but yesterday
He sailed away with eager zest
“I pinned a rose upon his coat”
She falters, clutching at her throat.
A mariner he put to sea,
Twas more than fifty years ago,
The neighbors nod in sympathy,
She cannot understand they know.
What fancies throng her poor old head
“My Robert lost? He can’t be dead.”
And she is right. Her clearer eye
Sees through the storms and stress of years,
Full well she knows he did not die
The rainbow glistens through her tears
Enshrined within her heart in truth
Her Robert lives in deathless youth.
From her lone window on the shore
She nightly sets a lamp to burn
A beacon when the breakers roar
To guide him on his safe return.
No matter what the neighbors say
These two shall meet again some day!