Face to face

The cradle rocked to and fro
as the lady in green sat
alone with her thoughts.
'My child is gone!
whispered the lady in green
with her hands on the crib
once full of life.

Down, far below
and far away
lay her child
beneath the earth
in a church-yard
where cowslips
and butterflies
slipped and crept
she with flowers
all around her.

Whilst this lady in green
with tears she couldn't show
in a time long ago
when her breast milk still flowed
and butterflies swept and fluttered
on the gravestone
of this child who would never grow old
or have a story to be told.

Yet, the lady in green
would be there forever
as the sun set and rose
and the seeds grew forever
and the flowers behind
the sad lady in green
hung in the portrait.

Whilst the hand that
had drawn her
and painted the
green of her dress
and the hands
that rested on the crib
would now be long since dead
as the cowslips grew
and the graveyards
filled through the years
and the tears forever.