A Husband Away

I pushed the beaded pin into my hair,

Looked at the mirror, at the empty street again,

Just a few more hours,

I muttered a prayer.

I’ve left the crossword unsolved in the morning newspaper,

Dusted the bookshelf,

I’ve cooked your favourite supper.

Bottles re-arranged in the cellarette,

Decanters and port wine,

The vases full of tulips fresh,

Knives and forks for together we’ll dine.

A dutiful wife, I’ve hidden them well,

Boudoir mails and scented letters,

For a husband away is a husband dead,

All wise men can tell.