QUARTER PAST ONE

© RYAN GUILEY

Eating breakfast, there are empty chairs,

No children running down the stairs,

No milk spilled on the kitchen floor,

Or seeing a shirt or dress that they wore.

 

Her own beauty, she doesn’t know,

What makes me light up and glow,

She has it all, as she is very pretty,

As I walk these streets in the city.

 

She falls asleep at half past ten,

As  I say a prayer and say amen,

I believe, it will just be alright,

Soon, we will be together holding on tight.

 

I just can’t worry for nothing,

As  I give her all of my loving,

Her husband, and her good-looking man,

As the white gold shines on her wedding band.

 

She wears a necklace each new day,

As our daughters, love her in their way,

While our son, thinks she is the best,

As I think the same and nothing less.

 

She wakes up at a quarter past one,

As she smiles at me, calling me  “hon”,

So beautiful, and slowly she drifts back to sleep,

As I stare at her all night, then the alarm beeps.

 

I could not take my eyes off,

As her hair is so delicate and soft,

Then, she asks me, why I am smiling?

Since, my prayer was answered as we are lying.