Ninety-six hours I’m away from your smile.

A delicate touch displayed on an unspoiled face,

I count down the hours, fingers marking time

and try to keep myself amused

through this horrendous trial.

 

Each week we go through the same ritual dance,

a tear hidden behind a fond farewell.

A promise that whatever happens to us

we will call at the same hour, each  separate day.

Wherever I am staying and wherever my thoughts dwell.

 

By Tuesday night I’m climbing the walls.

By Wednesday morning I can’t cope with the clock,

another enforced separation from a loved one

just how many more can I take?

Thinking of you in one corner and in the other my sons!

 

Then Friday comes, the weather I do not notice,

Just a primal urge to set foot on the outgoing train

That will bring me closer to the Liverbirds

And a weekend that will make me smile with pleasure.

That time, nor past can censure.

 

Ian D. Hall  ( First written and published in 2004.)