***a Dedication To Readers Of My Verses! Poem by RAJ NANDY

*** A DEDICATION TO READERS
OF MY VERSES

I keep surfing the inter-net in search of old and
rare gems,
A habit I had developed, after my retirement!
Sometimes they are verses I had read decades
ago, -
Since with the passing of years memories do fade
you know? !
These gems lie all strewn and buried behind our
dusty years,
And I want to share them with you, along with
your joys and tears!
At times they are new finds - those once I had
not read;
I save it up to share with you without false
pretense!
So bear with me when once in a while I put up
those golden rhymes,
It shall enrich our souls for they are timeless
and sublime!
And the first of these is - ‘Himself”, a poem
by Alice Guerin Crist!

‘HIMSELF’
- by Alice Guerin Crist (1876-1941)
Last night, when I was listenin’
Alone, to wind and rain,
He took the chair beside me,
Himself – come home again!

His kind blue eyes were smilin’
Beneath his thatch of grey,
He laid his hand on my hand,
The ould sweetheartin’ way.

I pressed my cheek upon it,
Remembering bitterly,
The times he faced his daily toil
Without one smile from me.

And yet his meals were always good,
His clothes well kept and clean,
The neighbours, sure will tell you,
The splendid wife I had been.

But in Life’s stress and struggle,
We somehow, grew apart,
You know these Irish mothers,
’Tis “the childer” has their heart.

And he grew grim and close-lipped,
And harder, day by day,
Poor man - too tired for laughter,
Too worried to be gay.

But how his care enclosed us,
For all he was so grim,
The very rafter of our home
Were cut and laid by him.

And I, that might have cheered him,
The bitter words I said,
Oh! God, that we remember,
Only when they are dead!

But now – my arms were round him,
The room seemed full of flowers,
And youth came back and sunshine,
That glorious time was ours.

The firelight flamed and flickered,
The embers fell apart,
I woke to empty silence,
With sorrow in my heart.

The wild winds brought the morning,
The dawn was red and chill,
And Himself was lyin’ sleepin.
In the graveyard on the hill!
--- 0 ---
**THE POEM WAS WRITTEN IN 1920! AT THE AGE
OF 02 yrs ALICE MIGRATED FROM IRELAND TO AUSTRALIA
WITH HER PARENTS! HER 38 POEMS HAD THE FLAVOUR
OF THE ‘BUSH’ & NOSTALGIC MEMORIES OF IRELAND!
THANKS FOR READING!