Breath of life to fight the Reaper.
Skillful touch to bandage wounds.
Words of comfort soothe the frightened.
End of day can't come too soon.
In the quiet of the evening,
sharing moments precious, few,
tender goodnights shared in whispers
waiting for the dawn renewed.
As he slumbers, little knowing
of my gaze, my love, my pride.
Of himself he gives his patients
placing weariness aside.
Morning sunlight comes too early,
as the sirens cry his name.
Off he goes to save another
yet my hero, all the same.
Author notes
For RCL xoxoxx
A contest entry
- Inspiration by ThatColinKid.
370 points, ended October 15, 2008, 12 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
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