After the divorce he built a fence,
an invisible defence,
but a second chance arose,
he grasped it like a cherished rose.
His heart full, her smile his guide,
together like love birds they bide.
Her quiet grace, her pretty face,
yet cracks emerge where wildflowers chase.
His world orbits his wife, his life,
sanctuary from internal strife,
a soft cocoon to wrap her in,
soft and airy, warm within.
“It’s a shame”, he lately rues,
“that you don’t see eye to eye”,
life revolves around his second wife,
guarding her like fragile dawn.
His children see the shadows grow,
walls of silence they can’t outgrow.
He claims, “We can’t,” while he’s elsewhere.
A distant heart, ensnared in care.
They walk the mall three times a week,
a ritual he derides, but seeks,
for once he lost a love before,
a hidden fear he can’t ignore.
His love a summer’s day confined,
kept safe from harm, the warmth refined.
This type of love, there is a cost,
but forgive him, for he was lost.