There he was standing in the door way
It was just like she'd imagined for years.
Her lips quivered and her body trembled but all she managed was tears.
He looked so different from the last time they met.
She got all dizzy and faint at the sight of him again.
Now now my dear don't fret.
His soft words softly floating around her like smoke.
I guess I'm supposed to be dead he said.
In which she replied I never gave up hope.
There he was muddy and grimy patched with scars and wounds.
He was home again.
Life was complete again.
A little voice from the corridor calls
Mummy who's that?
There at once his expression fell and his helmet dropped to the mat.
I was pregnant she says.
Trying to hide under her hair.
Couldn't you have told your mother?
No I wouldn't have dared.
My own baby girl to call my own.
A tear rolls down his cheek.
As he holds her in his arms he trembles with joy and at the knees he is
weak.
She leads him to the kitchen to tend to his wounds.
And listens to stories of fright.
He talked of the trenches and the black outs at night.
In which she exclaimed what a terrible sight.
That it was my dear he said his eyes glazed and teary.
But I did it for us you should that by now.
Bombs go off and dignity is lost.
But pain is no match match for a burning soul
Without you my darling my life wasn't whole.
 
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