She walks still yet the mother
Between the hours from midnight to dawn;
Searching for her long lost lover
And the children to whom them were born.
The beds now are empty
The rooms lonely forlorn;
She stands on the hearth of memory
A haven for those who mourn.
The beds are now filled with children,
Her lover is warm by her side;
Her tears she'll save for tomorrow
Not drown in the morning tide.'
For between the hours from midnight to morning
When the world is silent at rest;
She lives on in her world full of memories
And dreams again of their sweet warm caress.
|© Helen Catherine Cramer