Edna Jacques
Edna Jacques Poems
It doesn't matter much, I know,
In all this world of grief and woe,
That one small girl of half-past four
Is never watching any more,
...
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It doesn't matter much, I know,
In all this world of grief and woe,
That one small girl of half-past four
Is never watching any more,
Or runs with happy, eager feet
To meet me coming down the street.
It doesn't matter much at all
That I shall never hear her call,
Or wave a bunch of wilted flowers
She picked to deck this room of ours,
Or hear her tell with sobbing breath
About a tiny robin's death.
I've gathered all her playthings up,
Her favorite porridge-bowl and cup,
Her scarlet beads and old cracked doll,
Her roller-skates and water ball,
Wond'ring just why such things must be-
For, oh, it matters so to me!
Edna Jacques Comments
Beautiful poems that evoke delight and longing and passion. What is the poem....Go out go out I beg of you, And taste the beauty of the wild, Behold the miracle of the earth With all the wonder of a child..
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4/26/2024 12:26:38 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I remember her well, as when a child I used to read her poems in the Moose Jaw paper, and then years later I had a chance to chat with her in her little house south of Toronto. Had gone there with a friend. I still like her style of poems better than the modern ones.