The Letter

Florence E. Stiff

The postman whistled down the street
And seemed to walk on lighter feet
And as he stepped inside her gate
He knew he carried precious freight;
He knew that day he carried joy
He had a letter from her boy.
Day after day he'd kept his pace
And seen her careworn gentle face,
She watched for him and came and took
The papers with an anxious look
But disappointment followed hope
She missed the one glad envelope.
He stopped to chat with her a while
And saw the sadness of her smile,
He fancied he could hear her sigh
The morning that he traveled by;
He knew that when tomorrow came
She would be waiting just the same.
The boy who was so far away
Could never hear her gently say:
"Well have you brought good news to me?"
Her eager face he could not see,
Or note the lines of anxious care
As every day she waited there.
But when he wrote, on lighter feet
The happy postman walked the street
"Well here it is, at last," he'd shout
"To end the worry and the doubt."
The robins on the maple limb
Began to sing: "She's heard from him."
Her eyes with joy began to glow
The neighbors round her seem to know
That with the postman at the door
Sweet peace had come to her once more.
When letters bring so much delight,
Why do sons forget to write?

LOVE ALWAYS,
BOB