so joan
the tide was coming in
the sun was growing warm
on the statuette of that youngly girl
bending to the sails of her three sailed boat
fare trading on the wind of a past blow warm
there upon the whicker sitting as soft as you like
where you sat as i sit now
i can see you now
the statuette is moved on a slight sunbeam’s quirk
and yet for a moment i was a child again
and you a young mum gay and joy
the beach a song along a childhood dream
the sky as blue sky thinking it seams to me
that to draw back from this reverie is to taste
the sea’s deep sorrow across this troubled world
and yet
oh time play not these tricks again
for winsome is a feral hat this wind will blow away
the day your fingers ran through my hair
oh mum rest you there in my chair
and i will sun red and burnish this memory again
and the breeze will blow a tear or two
again
it pleaded me not half today
to shed a golden tear for you
to draw the curtains
and close the hut
for the tide is full and the dream on the turn
remember
oft tabled scones and jam and cream
and there the serviette to dry a tear
for as the sun sets today
as it did long ago as i recall
as if it were but yesterday
sleep tight my dear
sleep tight my lovely one
the story that was
that yesterday
today i say
it has just begun
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