Munching noodles past midnight,
It’s nearly two o’clock…
He could not sleep so will just write
And ponder, taking stock.
His wife would like to find a dream…
A vision to be tasked,
It’s been a frequent thought for her
And this week someone asked.
They both had dreams of kids and home,
Alas those dreams are dashed…
It’s been a source of bitterness
Often over years rehashed.
They live in an apartment now,
The children never were…
They probably won’t leave the place
Until they are interred.
The wife wants dreams to replace
Dreams that are lost or died…
Even short and medium goals
In which she can take pride.
For health reasons neither one of them
Would last long overseas…
But something that she could do at home
To minister would please.
She cannot see for embroidery
Or to write a computer blog page…
She wants to be a useful soul,
Instead of being caged.
Her man, he writes, and can get out
To earn a little bread…
If only she found ministry
To occupy her head!