A Silent Departure

The curtains all prettied and gracious

The plates set,

The silverware dangerously lustrous,

Lay on the table untouched yet.

My hair falls on my shoulders,

I wear the dress that draws attention to my eyes,

Just the way you like it.

You arrive; you're late again.

Before I can sit you down,

You say you're in a hurry,

Leave, you must right now.

So I let you go. 

I knot my hair,

And slip out of the dress,

To draw attention, no more

To my now teary eyes.

I clean up the mess on the table,

Close the curtains and fluff the pillows,

Just the way you like it.

I pick another book tonight,

That I must finish before I drift off

As I await your arrival, sat tight.

This book says there's a woman,

Bewitching, gallant and outspoken.

She comes across a man 

Who gives her all the love wanted by one,

But walks away from him off-hand.

I become Slumber's slave too soon tonight,

Just the way you like it.

I wake up to your sleeping form,

Next to me, in peace and calm.

I wonder why the woman 

Who had all the adoration,

Would leave without hesitation.

I sit up and open the book again.

As I read on, I begin to recognize her,

To perceive the reasons of her departure.

Her departure from a love forlorn, 

A love where she wasn't viewed an equal,

Where patience and emotions had out-worn.

And excuses and outrage, were several.

The poor woman, subdued

No longer had courage for dispute.

So she left.

I get out of the bed, draw the curtains,

A new light shines in.

I make the table and set the plates,

The silverware dangerously lustrous.

I take a napkin and a pen,

Write a parting note addressed to my man.

Gently, I place it by your bedside.

The clouds are dark now,

The sky rumbles,

I have always adored the rains.

I look at your sleeping form,

One last time before I disappear

In the mizzle,

Just the way I like it.