© 2019 Barbara Grace Lake

At five when asked what’s wanted most
She’d never answer knowing that
Adults who ask would simply laugh
For children never know their minds


But I could answer now for her
That lonely child who couldn’t say
She’d want her father home at night
Both parents snug her tightly in


When asked again the child was 10
She wouldn’t answer knowing that
If more than book t’was way too dear
Another year, another day


What would I answer for her now
That girl away in boarding school?
She wanted more than life could give
A home in which to live.  A home.


At sixteen when her mother asked
She wanted clothes, the latest styles.
Her gifts were seconds, last year’s rack
Not fitting quite her size or life


When an adult the questions stopped
All felt they knew her mind quite well
She had career, they could not guess
What she’d most want if they should ask


Someone to love, someone to stay
A home, a home in which to live.
So woman married, children came
A life ideal thought all she knew


His roaming feet made mockery
Of sanctity and marriage vows
Alone again, the questions rose
What will you, can you do alone


Near ninety now, a life endured
Through heartache, blessing even love
Though not again a sensual kind.
Her needs the same as when at 10


Someone to care, someone to stay
A home to share in which to live.
Now home she shares with caring child
Those final questions answered, done.