One More.
Aged bones
could not hide hard labour of years.
Yet behind
her lined face lay unwrinkled dreams.
Eyes blurred as
drops turned to deluge of mem'ries
Her first days
in service revealed duty's extremes.
Rich homesteads
demanded extrinsic distinctions.
White aproned,
those maids learned not to be seen.
Marked values
reigned absolute with the Genteel.
But lost was
the grip in such household regimes.
As rumours
of war became fact fates were sealed.
Vanished went
edicts when soldiers were needed.
With servants'
enlistment gone was a whole era.
Not again
finest balls would open Deb-Season.
Her chosen
sweetheart fed Passchendaele's greed.
The Master's
son fell and was mourned in great grief.
Traditions
aborted when young men disappeared.
Her eyes filled
again with remembered shed tears.
Spinsterhood
forced meant her planning defeated.
Every boy's
slaughter gave the future no meaning.
Ranks became
classless in trenched battle-shell heat.
Blood cannot
run blue spilt at war's crimson feet.
Now old and
alone one more Lady's maid weeps.
-
Author:
Fay Slimm. (
Offline) - Published: December 18th, 2021 10:38
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 43
- Users favorite of this poem: Goldfinch60
Offline)
Comments5
Very emotive Dear Fay
A distraught scene built in my mind
An estranged lady passed in my memories beside
I remembered my school nurse
She was a very kind lady. Held so many griefs yet she never cried. I don’t know why but your poetry made my memories revive.
Thanks a lot daer Fay for sharing this.
I am pleased you were drawn back to remember your school nurse Spills -
- - there were so many who lost men in those terrible days of world war and never were able to wed.
A poignant write Fay.
Beautiful story Fay. A very well captured moment of history
Glad you think so dear Sax - those days must have been filled with the weeping of women who lost their only sweethearts - - so many males went that there was none left for those lonely ones ever to marry - a great aunt of mine was a case in question and I have today the last letter he wrote before going over (the trench ) the next to meet death.......... I treasure his love and his courage written in pencil.
What a brilliant poem Fay, it must go into my favourites.
Andy
Ah - I guessed you would be moved by the verse Andy -- thanks for keeping it in your faves - a great aunt of mine was one of the thousands who lost her sweetheart to trench-war back then.
A lifetime captured & held fast now for all of time left .. a magnificent & most accurate depiction I fear ..
between just you & me .. I do believe I was there maybe .. Passchendaele that is .. and that portrait up there is far too familiar by half ...
not surprisingly then, I have a lump in my throat the size of a greengage .......................... N x
How interesting your comment Nev - - stranger things have happened at sea -as I believe a lady once said re. the memory ......... the tribute I offered in verse is to those left without hope of marriage and family - thinking of those who now long gone still wring my heart at this time of year...........x
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