As she sat in his favourite worn chair
the expectant mother became aware.
Of a soft touch on her pale cheeck
reading a letter sent that week.
Crying their baby born without a dad
what was the point of being mad.
    Lonely now she felt an unseen force
on her aching shoulders easing remorse.
Standing up aware of an uninvited guest
though not afraid she had been blessed.
Since her husband had died he was near
this gave her strength there was no fear.
    How their baby kicked keen to be born
her senses even now frayed and torn.
Happy they had created their first child
though in her mind her spirit still wild.
Part of her almost died answering the door bell
two soldiers said they had bad news to tell.
    Andy had been shot while on duty abroad
any help and support was assured.
The early weeks just one long depressing blur
then everything changed for her.
His after shave and essence wafted in the air
and now Tess had become aware.
    Dad would be there at the baby's birth
even though not alive on the earth.
    Was this just a desperate wifes vivid imagination
or actually a new form of creation?
    The Foureyed Poet.