I wrote this years before it has actually
happened to me:
WAITING BY THE TELEPHONE:
An elderly lady sits all alone.
Waiting eagerly for the ring of the phone.
Will it be today she'll get that call?
In her hands she clutches an old ragged doll.
Her daughter who lives not far from her,
Never sends her mother love and good cheer.
The doll that is clutched was her daughter's long ago.
The memories come flooding back as silent tears flow.
She thinks of the days when she was a child.
Running through the fields her hair flowing wild.
How trustung her daughter held her hand.
My, she was the prettiest girl in the land.
Those are the special years,
She remembers with pride.
She's lost count of many tears
In her life she has cried.
Today she sits in her old easy chair.
Clutching the doll with matted hair.
The tears they come, come like a flood.
After all she's her mother, her own flesh and blood.
Taken from my book
"WRITTEN FROM THE HEART"
Copyright, all rights reserved.
Yvonne Lewis 2011