When she is around...
I sing more...
Songs I know she adores...
Midmorning when she is gone...
The silence returns with songs only in my head...
Then the dread...
Pictures on a wall, but whose room?
Will it ease the gloom?
Of children in a tree...
Pass a mirror and see the hint of a smile, can it be?
Car doors open...she\'s home...
Maybe she will kiss me when she reads this poem...
Then I will sing some more, in this place we call home.