I sit and read old letters of a true romantic love gone wrong, reading each letter hoping each exact word would try to speak- I hear my gramma’s favorite song; death she knew all along, and as I wipe a woeful tear I notice an old beautiful antique. When grandpa left for war she was left pregnant with their first. He made sure that special trinket was hidden in a safe place- Her e m e r a l d eyes wept, for one more touch she did thirst, when that first letter came I’d wish to see the look on her face. Each Friday a letter arrived through that slit in the door. O N E by O N E she read them over and over many times again- She anticipated them like a kid in a penny candy store, but when the letters stopped arriving she knew it was the E N D . For their love was too real for him to just retreat and not write. He had a baby to hold when he was to come home before- It was World War II and she knew he put up a good fight, but nothing was as deadly as the front line of a serious war. Sorrow filled her heart as she ran to her room with the baby crying. Reaching for H I S picture in a drawer she saw the trinket he had left- Her name engraved on one e m e r a l d pendant; her eyes she kept drying, she may have smiled in her soul but in her poor heart she was BEREFT... Five Rhyming Stanza's - 5 only - Poetry Contest Sponsor, Broken Wings Date Written: August 22, 2016