The Church Hall In Drummore Poem by jim hogg
The Church Hall In Drummore
She's sitting down beside the wall
When the music starts to play
I'm walking slowly ‘cross the hall
And I'm lost for words to say
I know her name and nothing more
But there's something in her eyes
We're in the village of Drummore
In the Church Hall side by side
Some kind of spell falls over us
It's the nineteen seventies
We're oh so young and lost for love
And we gently start to kiss
Her lips are soft; she holds me tight
And we're seized by tenderness
But something took me off that night
From her sweet and tender lips
From time to time I think of you
In your village by the shore
And how the years so quickly flew
Since we kissed then kissed no more
I caught your eye in Mill Street once
And we said a warm hello
It turned my thoughts to love and chance
In the church hall in drummore
(chorus)
I held you in my arms that night
A short and precious time
And you were more than you'll ever know
So long ago dear in Drummore
The music source that night was an old wooden framed music centre from the late 50s/early 60s. Elvis was singing Young and Beautiful. We both still lived in the village then. We'd locked eyes a few times on the school bus. She was modest, clever, down to earth and I found her compellingly attractive. She settled down to a fulfilling life just yards from where she was born. No sensible male would ever have wanted more than she offered. She came from a long line of very special women who were the backbone of the village. Every time I see her I'm reminded of those precious minutes, and my mistaken fear that the couple of years difference in our ages was a shameful thing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/23/2024 2:07:52 PM # 1.0.0.1119
