She Waits, Alone
Isolated grief in a barren landscape

She waits out There, Alone, Everyday. Through sun, Soak, and even snow. Never moving, Always waiting, For that love Who left this Fragile heart Longing, and craving For a remedial return. Her hair now white, Her dress still black, Both billowing in vain. For he’ll never come back, Despite her praying, And claiming That he’s just delayed. That fading, yet solid ghost Who haunts Her thoughts, And makes her Haunt this lonely spot, Till one day, She’s not. Two ghosts now Laid to rest, Together, now blessed.
This poem is directly inspired by my own painting above, one of three pieces I made last year, for the annual Incognito charity art exhibition in Ireland (with all sales going to facilities for sick and disabled children). The painting itself, ‘She Waits’, was inspired by my love of lone figures in barren, or empty landscapes, and the haunting feel of such imagery. Thanks for reading.
