Broken and worn like the rusted

hinges to a gate of an old back fence –

tired, thrown to and fro –

once open, now permanently closed,

in dire need of repair.

She guards her heart -  admittedly,

overly cautious, sometimes believing

she has used up her chances, often

wondering if love is worth the gamble,

the pain or the effort.

Yet, somehow, a glimmer of hope still

remains, and occasionally she smiles

in spite of herself, wondering if she

should one day tempt fate – for she

can almost swear she heard the God(s)

whisper, “All in due time.”