Nineteen hundred and fifty,
There were a lot of girls
Out on the town then,
I was seventeen and
Ready for anything.
I was told to be sensible,
Told to be careful but
I knew it all.
I was one of the lads,
One of the boys
That would make the
World sit up and
Take notice.
I strutted like a peacock
I was not as courtly
As that flashy young bird
And my bravado was
Very thin on my sleeve.
I talked to them on
On street corners
Eyed their shapely legs.
They laughed, the sound
Ringing in my ears like
Musical drops of rain
On a Saturday evening.
And then all at once
There she was,
Wishing she was
With someone, and I
Without a thought went
Up to her and took her
Hand and brushed it
Lightly with my lips.
She laughed then
And I laughed too
Her hand trembled like a
Young animal in mine
I whispered in her ear
“Will you walk with me”
And she nodded
So we left the crowd
And floated down the
Street on gossamer
She was sixteen wanting
To be a woman and
I told her
That she could be
Anything she wanted
She kissed me
On the cheek then
And became a woman
We loved each other
For six months
And then parted for
Pastures new.
By the way
Her name was Mathilde
this poem has quite a build up, a strong one....but where did it go to? i found the ending just fizzled out.... like you were remembering a neighbour or someone like that...... rachael
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Mathilde, first 'love conquest'? A learning curve? Never to be forgotten, obviously..................