BBS-018
Sid's N T I N S Locker
... Amy said:
"I originally wrote this short poem as a reminder to myself of how it felt to WAIT for
the boat to return home after a long patrol. Our lives as wives were as exciting and enriching as we allowed them to be, but they were also peppered with moments of loneliness. The interminable WAITING was one of the hardest parts. Perhaps this will jog a few memories. I know it does for me." 
           Amy Cole - A Submariner's Wife 
 
AS WIVES WAIT
As the rose's petal gives up a sigh and paints its soul across the sky,
The eyes of waiting silhouettes sweep dauntingly out to sea.
The morning mist is heavy here as the shadows of our heart
Push through the dull and hazy grayness of our existence. 
Time, like heavy clogs of granite, refuses to yield to our pleas.
While salty breezes wash over us, licking our wounds of loneliness 
And wringing the salt from our tears. 
Slicing the air with her velvet voice the mistress calls from the Sound. 
We all pause, straining to hear. Was that Her? 
Time drags its heavy load across our hearts, threatening to crush our patience. 
And we wait. 
Then, like a ghost slipping through the walls of her house, she emerges
From the humid fog of the sea and creeps quietly toward her river home.
Oh! Silent Beauty, we love you and loathe you. You steal our lovers away.
Then deliver them safely back to us. And all the while we pray. 
Cloned eyes sweep along her back - searching for a remembered stance. 
There - a wave - Did you see? He waved! We are HERE our minds scream!
We jump and shout and demand attention!
They are home - safely home from the sea. They belong to us again!