Some days there's nothing to do except sit and wait for the sunbeams to come.
Awaiting the Sunbeams
I sit and gaze out the window Of my son’s condo.
The skies are overcast,
It’s wintry,
And snowflakes sashay
From the heavens.
The parking lot is bare.
Everyone’s gone—except me.
I’m trapped inside—
Just like Marshall, the parrot,
In the next bedroom.
There’s nothing to do
But wait for the sunbeams to arrive.
That’ll bring back contentment
To a saddened spirit.
AH...AND NEVER DOES THE SON'S BEAMS NOT COME. FOR, '...THOSE THAT WAIT UPON THE LORD, HE RENEWS THEIR STRENGTH...' WONDERFUL INSPIRATIONAL PIECE, DAVID - THANKS SO MUCH FOR SHARING. THIS GOES IN MY VAULT. LOVE, BLESSINGS AND FAITH...JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS
Your sadness is palpable David...Possibly a dose of SAD like I suffer with..A light lamp helps enormously.
Your poem has a certain pensive quality about it that I find charmingly wistful..I hope the sunbeams arive soon!
Love and Hugs, Diana
A most interesting and refined poem. Desperately sad and lonely, but I really enjoyed it. It was wonderful how you brought in the comparison with Marshall.
Be well,
Christine
Explore the mystery of how nature makes unexpected gifts of creative wonders to an unsuspecting caregiver one late night and early morning in southeastern Georgia, USA.
Insightful writing.
Connie
Your poem has a certain pensive quality about it that I find charmingly wistful..I hope the sunbeams arive soon!
Love and Hugs, Diana
Be always safe,
Karen
Be well,
Christine