Excerpt
Colour In the Willows
Darling … the colour has come back, in the willows.Remember how it was, last year? Incredibly orange …Little orange willow switchesHardly bending;Remember the white shore roadAnd the blue water in the BayStill fretted with clotted snowAt the sand edge?The sky was a light, high blueAnd all the clouds were little, and frisky.And we kept making wagers about the willowsAt every curve in the road.Darling … the colour has come back in the willows;But I have no one … to bet with!
"They Also Serve …"
Nightly, still, I dress for you,In frocks of fabric and of hueYou would have liked.Silly, I know, when you are gone,To care if shoes are black or fawn;To match my lip rouge with a ring;To pin gardenias at my breast;To brush my hair till it is sleekAs carded silk … and in my eyesTo wear a look of glad surprise!Nightly, still, I dress for you -Because I know you'd want me to!
Litany For the Lonely
You're warmth and laughter …You're the "good time"!You're security …And sleeping with arms 'roundAnd no night …And the dark shut out!You're painDrowned in joy,And laughter from the heart …You're loving kindness …The look of dear acquaintanceAnd a hand to hold,Always!
This Was My Brother(For Lt.-Col. Howard McTavish, killed in action at Dieppe)
This was my brotherAt Dieppe,Quietly a heroWho gave his lifeLike a gift,Withholding nothing.
His youth … his love …His enjoyment of being alive …His future, like a bookWith half the pages still uncut -
This was my brotherAt Dieppe -The one who built me a doll houseWhen I was seven,Complete to the last small picture frame,Nothing forgotten.
He was awfully good at fixing things,At stepping into the breach when he was needed.
That's what he did at Dieppe;He was needed.And even Death must have been a little shamedAt his eagerness!
"NostAglia"
What's "nostAglia", Mums?"NostAglia … ?" Oh, you mean"Nostalgia", Son, let me see …How can I explain it to you, this "nostAglia",(As good a word for it as any!)Well … Darling …"NostAglia", is that funny pit-of-the-tummy feelingYou getGoing down in elevatorsOnly you're not in an elevator -It just comes.Everything sort of goes away from you,And you feel a little scaredAnd a lot lonely …It's like thisRemember Tippy … the little brown dog …And how we loved him;And how he ran just a little ahead of you,Just a little too fastAnd you, chasing him on your tricycle …And the curb came,And you stopped,And Tip, didn'tAnd he just lay there,And the look was gone out of his eyesAnd we tucked him away in a brown bean cartonUnder the apple treeAnd the house was awfully quiet without him,That was "nostalgia".
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And remember when we did the Plays,And you were Wakefield in the Jalna one,And we used to prop up your lines over the basin in the bathroom,And you learned them while you brushed your teeth;And you followed me round the kitchenWhile I made peanut butter cookiesAnd took the part of RennyAt the same time …And it was pretty excitingAnd mixed up, and very wonderful …And the smell of make-up, remember that...?