As I open the door and step inside,
I glance up,
and see her smile wide.
She knows who I am and why I am there,
And whose name is on the package I bear.
For I’ve been there many times before -
To that postal counter at the back of the store.
The transaction is simple, just normal routine,
As I place the box on her weighing machine.
She checks the scale and stamps my form;
I pay,
say goodbye,
and go back out the door.
My thoughts drift to him,
I try to be strong,
As I get in my car,
and head back home.
For the package I sent,
just like the others,
Is full of love – to a son from his mother.
He is a grown man,
of that there is no doubt;
But a mother’s love just never runs out.
My prayers and these packages are all I can send
So I will pour myself into both til the end.
Until he is home with his family once more,
I will go to that counter at the back of the store.
And send love packages to my soldier faraway
In hopes that they somehow brighten his day
poem by Cynthia Gibbs\
Ok so I’m not going to ask you to fan me because I didn’t actually write any of these except one or two of them… but I do ask that you comment and vote these poems mean so much to me and a lot of people all across the world.
