Beyond The Haunt Of Memory Poem by Lynn W. Petty

While browsing through an old bookstore,
I found a worn and tattered manuscript of verse.
Inscribed upon the flyleaf:
'Somewhere on the wagon trail,1872.'
The appealing thoughts were the innermost dreams
And expectations of an older teen-age girl.
All the magic of youth and joy were there despite
The hardships of which she wrote.
I thumbed the pages, let them fall, my eye discerned
A poem so profound my ear found pause to linger
In her symmetry of words.
The author's name unknown; her grave beyond our memory,
But she is not forgotten.
She is remembered for her remarkable fusion
Of the sweet, the sad, the earnest, and the frightened
Into youthful fancy, morality and rhyme;
For her soft complaining of unfulfilled love;
For her translation of life into thought:

"The day gave way to a soothing solitude that sinks quietly into the soul."
"The morning air was fragrant with expectancy and power."
"The decay of our sorrows is the humus of our hope."
"I would melt, like a creature of light into his arms."

Did she achieve the lofty ends of her destiny?
Did she accomplish her desires before her life's end?
We are left to surmise, her writings do not tell us so.