Restless Longing

She paced back and forth across the kitchen.
It was raining again. Oh when would the warmth of summer come?
Her spirit seemed restless today. Truth be told her very being was restless
with longing. Allowing her no peace, no sleep and no respite. For even
in her nightly dreams her soul wandered in the endless dark. With each
dawning her mind rove elsewhere.

She went again to check where she had hidden the box. A dangerous box
of letters and yet,so sweet so tender. Words of faithful love filled
their pages. Promises to keep that now would never be. Love lost before it
had begun. Never to be found again, always hidden evermore. She looked
out at the wind and the rain. Tears in her heart keep time with the rain drops.
She crossed the kitchen once more, reach down to check the wood stove and put on
a tea kettle to boil.

Cemetery Of Books

The book was thick and black covered with dust and cob webs
as were the others in this cemetery of once remembered now lost books.
He was allowed to take but one of the thousands surrounding him.
As he touch the big black book, it was as if it knew him,
as if it called out his name marking his soul.
Yes, this was the one, the one possession he must have.
Later he would remember the thrill of finding this book.
All his life he would think of this place, this cemetery of forgotten books and wonder.