A Love Story I was asked to write that had a sad ending…for me at any rate

I was asked to write a poem, a very special poem, from a spurned husband to his wife.

He wanted it to be in the form of a love story, describing their first meeting, their marriage, the wonderful life they carved out for themselves; and then their first child arrived along with the first sign of problems when the wife’s parents took over the care of not only the baby, but their daughter, to the exclusion of the husband.

His aim was to win back the heart of his wife and he wanted the poem to be sent anonymously.

We agreed a fee.

I spent a long time on the poem and changed it as instructed until he was happy with the final draft.

Unfortunately that was the last I heard from him. I can but assume he sent the poem and I have tried to contact him several times to no avail.

But I am proud of the work I do and I take pleasure from knowing others enjoy my work and to this end, I thought I would share this anonymous love story with you; who knows, perhaps it strikes a chord in your heart.

A Love Story that has not yet reached the end…..

True Love Conquers All 

Love at first sight; can it ever be true?

When a man meets a woman – did it happen to you?

Both fall in love, their hearts become one,

Each moment apart is a moment too long.

No money? No matter; when your heart rules your head

Love conquers all whatever is said.

When you’re head over heels and so much in love,

When the fit is just right like a hand in a glove.

The Wedding               

Then hard work pays off and true love grows strong,

The world is your oyster, nothing is wrong.

So perfectly matched, ‘the’ question is asked,

That joy of a ‘yes’ for ever will last.

Then love becomes marriage; the honeymoon dream

Surrounded by love, it must sometimes seem

How perfect life is, I think you’d agree;

Then another is added so two becomes three.

The Family 

A whole new chapter, new plans to make,

Learning each day it needs ‘give and take’.

The father, the mother, the new family life,

The husband adoring the mother, his wife.

The pride and the love, who knew it could be

So utterly perfect when two became three.

Protector, defender, the instinctive care,

Wanting to keep but having to share.

The Husband, the Father, the Outcast

There are some who think they know what is best,

Putting great love – and a marriage to test.

Removing the bond ‘tween husband and wife,

Time on their hands; they’ve had their own life.

From inside to out, excluded, dismissed,

Unwelcomed, rejected, not even a kiss

‘tween husband and wife, the baby at rest;

By people who think they know what is best.

Time to Let Go

Perhaps as we age and our children are grown

We have little left we see as our own,

We cannot allow any other to share

The child we raised with such love and great care.

But the harm that we do by not letting go

Is greater by far, I think I might know

The pain of a loss, the heartache and fear

Of losing the one thing you hold very dear.

The Rejection

When you’re out there alone and you’re counting the cost,

Every part of you aches for the love you have lost.

Your life falls apart when you lose all that’s good,

Confusion replaces what was once understood.

Have you ever felt lost, to the point you don’t know

Who you can turn to or where you can go?

When you think you have lost everything you hold dear,

When your dreams have been shattered and nothing is clear.

The Hope

But you hold onto the hope that the strength of your love

Will always be stronger than all the above.

You hope ‘gainst the odds that your life will return,

That the love is still there and the flame, it still burns.

When you make wrong decisions when the hurt is so bad,

When you go looking for something to make it less sad.

When you think you are better and try to believe,

When you lie to yourself, and yourself you deceive.

The Love

But love never dies and I hope in my heart

That whatever may happen when two people part,

When love and the joy of three becomes four,

I know that love well, it will live ever more.

The end of this story, the final scene

Has yet to be written by those who have been

Part of the love that once was so true,

Could it be that it’s now up to you?

camellia margaret

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About Sophia Moseley

Freelance Copywriter, Feature Writer and Author. Looking for that illusive job that every working mother craves but surviving, just, on what I can find. My writing and poetry keeps my sane. Watch this space.
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