Linger just awhile, sweet butterfly.
Prance in the garden, as I tell you, my story.
No one is home, nor shall they be soon.
The kids are all grown, and my husband has passed.
I sit in the garden, to speak to God's creatures.
I talk from my heart, and know my secrets are safe.
Blue little bird perched in the tree, please, listen to me.
I just need to talk to anyone near, for that, is what I miss most.
Silent are the voices of loved ones, so dear, some far, but none near
Some days are better than all the others, but I do miss the sounds,
Of laughter and cheer, and the whispered I love you's of long ago.
It's hard getting old, where isolation bruises the soul.
A bunny appears, as I pour out my woes.
In obvious criticism, she wrinkles her nose.
As if to say, of all my complaints.
You are quite healthy, and you stand on two feet.
There are others you know, with much worse fates.
It is very truly so, but please, spare a moment,
Some days, we just need to fight, the lonely inside.
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