Did you write poetry as a teenager? I did. Copious amounts of it. Most of it was thrown out during numerous house moves, but the one below was a little different. I wrote it for a girlfriend when we finished school. She, in turn, had it made into a scroll for my thirtieth birthday. I found it tucked safely away the other day when I was looking for a photograph (which is still eluding me…)
For me, it’s instantly evocative of that time when you leave school and people who are your best friends disappear never to touch your life again. In this case I’m lucky and many years later she’s still a good friend.
Good friends should be treasured.
The veiling grey of time
Is gently stirred and parted by the changing winds of thought.
The past is glimpsed as pictures,
Held within the limits of the mind.
The times of laughter and of loving all clearer than the rest.
But the shadowed grey of sorrow serves to heighten all the crests.
The freedom of two minds who in passing caught a glimpse,
And paused to spend a moment and view the other’s being.
Two minds grown in union, reflections of their times.
Innocence of youth seen through the eyes of man.
Like chrysalis emerging we shed the mantle of our youth.
We chose our paths and ventured on, each better for that glimpse.
I see you now and wonder, was my gift as great as yours?
Is it ever possible to repay a debt so large?
Child-woman journey on through life
But keep your memories pure,
And leave a corner of your mind for our time.
I thank you for the past you’ve left behind.
Thanks for sharing that, Sandy. It’s beautiful.
OK, with your permission, Helene, here’s one I wrote for a very dear friend who died at the age of 38 from breast cancer.
Sometimes Angels come to ground
The price they pay and are with bound
is Mortality
They live our sins and make our mistakes
And so find themselves able to relate
to us
Whilst they are here they bring to us
Delight and Happiness, Joy and Trust
The lessons that we learn from them shall be held in sacred trust
For when they are gone and have left with us
Memories of love and morals that are just
Alone we must continue on
When their time is come
Though their love not yet be spent
They will be required to begin their ascent
They’ll ride up high upon the night and catch the speeding sunbeams
The wind shall whisper their delight
And sorrow shall not follow
Cathy, you and Graham obviously learnt the same things at school!! He has a rather large repertoire of dirty ditties… I can’t believe how many nursery rhymes have been corrupted 🙂
It must have been lovely, Suzanne! How wonderful that your daughter related to it.
No, I recitied filthy limericks!
Oh, yes. I used to write poetry to the extent that my daughter’s English teacher wanted to read one to the class and have a copy. She took it to schoool. How embarrasing. lol
All school friends have come and gone except for one I call and see occasionally.
What a lovely poem Helene. Nice. 🙂