Love turns your dreams on end, the world sent screaming.
Mother weans the babe but which cries louder? "Out!" He's gone. And love still burns.
Her husband’s heart had turned from wreck of home to deck of cards, to gambling green. She took his leaving hard.
"He's burned through all our savings now," she cursed, but would he still reverse the pain, come home again?
Dark wrack and ruin nurtured seeds of love and love's return. She could not spurn his sorrow, only held the child. “Is this tomorrow?” Smiled.
Love heals as well. And true love tells.