I have received some criticism about my poems being to short. Rest assure I can write long poems But lets face it the longer a poem is the more boring it is. So here is my response.

A young soldier walks in and takes off cold weather gear.
Hard for him to admit he has been here over a year.
Next to his cot on a stand sits a picture he has kept.
The last thing this guy looks at each night before he has slept.
A woman feels as lonely over half a world away.
Her mind thinks past a year ago, when they parted that day.
The period they spend apart this woman truly hates.
But for love of a great husband, suffering this wife waits.

Days of deployment went by so fast at first then came to a sudden halt.
Of all time away, the last few weeks by far are the most difficult.
The days are longer, the winter colder, and all are feeling homesick.
Holding her scarf the thoughts he is bent on are of beautiful music.
She crosses a room and opens a cabinet, as tears streak her face.
Reaching in the waiting wife pulls out a compact, polished redwood case.
Inside this small wood case, that stays sealed tight with latches of well kept brass,
A device that conveys feelings of her soul as time continues to pass.

The heat is on in his tent but from the cold the man still shakes.
With each piece of battle rattle stripped off the less his body aches.
Placing a black sack on his cot he unrolls his sleeping bag,
To get needed rest from a day that seems to forever drag.
Lastly, before laying down he shakes sand out of his tan boots.
On a hill she lays the case on a trees exposed, mighty roots.
Unlatching it she reaches in and grabs an elegant bow.
Putting it to rosin the player makes the two gently flow.
Then with each touch to the taunt strings comes a pretty but sad note.
A song she plays only for him that her passion itself wrote.

It is her wish this piece of music bridges such an immense gap.
And though not long just maybe these strings bind the hearts that overlap.
Before sleep he prays for his wife’s fortune and to be rid his fears.
Smiling he hums beats his mind remembers but only his heart hears.