The Empty Field

In a cornfield lay a young girl,
With hazel eyes and brown curls,
Every Sunday she courted him,
After church when the light was dim;
Their love was the sweetest breath,
An unconsummated tenderness,
Lips touching, arms strong,
Did not hear the coming bombs.

Two years in the field they lay,
Grew closer at each passing day,
Spoke their dreams under the sky,
Hoped that neither soon would die;
A ring she wore upon her hand,
Something simple to understand,
His name was Bill and hers Grace,
Unified by a single faith.

At eighteen he went to war,
Left his sweetheart by the shore,
Held her warmth against his chest,
On his shoulders her head did rest;
Then one night she had a dream,
He came to her, it did seem,
To say one last goodbye,
To the girl to be his bride.

She waited but not a word,
From her handsome airforce boy,
Then it came, told how he died,
Flying in the blue so high;
It was the first day of his war,
That took her first love and her joy,
Now in the cornfield under the sky,
The grass has grown where she did lie.

Love Mary
Based on my Mother's life