I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world,
to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')


These poems are works in progress, and may be subject to revision without notice. Completed versions appear in my books. Nevertheless copyright applies to all texts found here.

2 June 2012

Verse Portrait 92. Nursing Home: Marjorie

1 Meeting

‘Another author!’
The Activities Officer
delightedly introduces
someone Andrew can talk to.
But it’s me who’s interested.

Marjorie, my mother’s name.
And her book, that she clutches
and displays, recounts
her childhood in India.
My mother was a child there too.

Still pretty, she’s also gracious:
beautiful English manners
from the last days of the Raj.
Like Mum again —
but this Marjorie
was legitimate Officer stock,
not a little Anglo-Indian girl.


2 Getting acquainted

She shows me a baby photo,
her family’s newest; can’t quite
explain where he fits.

And her son is a writer
(I know the name).
She describes his home,
which she visits. Sure enough,
on Mother’s Day she’s missing;
they must have taken her out.

She asks about my writing,
double-checks
that man’s my husband,
a writer too. I think
of giving her our books.
But I never see her read.


Submitted to Poetry Pantry #101 at Poets United. Click on the link to enjoy a poetry feast!

4 comments:

  1. Another person with a most fascinating story. Wow! I'd love to interview her!

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    Replies
    1. I keep thinking I'd like to go back and visit her, even had fantasies of tracking down and phoning her son for permission — but I simply don't have any time available.

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  2. How our circumstances expose us to others and theirs... miraculous and wonderful too. Despite hard times, Rosemary, you were so blessed! And now you bless us with portraits.

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  3. Interesting read. Thanks for sharing.

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