The Smell Of a Ripe Quince


Written: © Maxima
This poem is dedicated to abandoned parents who were left behind in their old homes, living there with no children joyful screaming…dying out
Their minds wonder in solitude still clinging on the hope that one day…

A dim lit room dreams
An old wooden wardrobe
The smell of a ripe quince
An old woman’s sob

Her hands are trembling
Her eyes rest on a candle
She feels her strength fading
The pain’s too much to handle

She has no one to share
These late night hours with
When the moon and stars glare
She can hardly breathe


Tagged: , , ,

2 thoughts on “The Smell Of a Ripe Quince

  1. Carol Balawyder December 1, 2014 at 22:10 Reply

    Very touching, yet very sad.

  2. kcg1974 December 1, 2014 at 20:23 Reply

    Lovely, Maxima. Touched my heart and soul. A ‘gift.’

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s