by BeardedPoet
"The Road"
Come in, she whispered,
and called me her dear.
It's by no strange chance
that you are now here.
Take off your boots,
dry your feet by the fire,
Where I will cook for you
should it be your desire.
Let my hands work first
over those frozen bones
And comfort the soul
that has been out alone.
Your strength will return
not long after you've ate,
But the sun is low now
and the road can wait.
Feeling truly safe there
I stepped into her door.
At once I was certain
that I had stood there before.
All things were familiar
in the ways that she moved;
A truth in her kindness
which need not be proved.
Now wrapped in the warmth
that she gave of herself,
Reminded a lost heart
of how good it once felt.
She drew a bit closer
then my spirit was moved.
My face had been warmed
while my fingers were soothed.
I looked into her eyes
that were deep and serene,
They shone with a brightness
only once I had seen.
Men have oft been inspired
by eyes such as hers.
I too, was so captured
for as long as it were.
A long journey remained
but the hour was late;
My eyes had grown heavy
So the road would wait.