The Yearning

The Yearning

The stare that pierced my soul

with brows arched stern 

I shrank beneath her eyes

disapproval's cut and burn

I longed for her smile

One sparkle from those grey-blue peeps

That said, "I love you, I am so proud,

that you are mine for keeps."

Days ran into years;

Rain turned into tears;

Forgotten yearnings buried deep,

Now spring forth as I watch you sleep

Soft white box cradled your form;

Is that a breath that I see now?

A serene face was not to be;

Scornful death lay on your brow

I longed for her smile;

I searched her face still and pale;

But sternness chiseled out its frown;

Was it concealed behind the veil?

Minutes seem to be a thief;

Eternity holds every grief;

And though I sought but one small trace,

they bore you out with scornful face.

Written by: Elizabeth A. Van Cleve