Miss Mary Brightwingle Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Miss Mary Brightwingle was my true friend
She lend me her car to drive away
Cared for my heart when I was in distress
Was the joyful partner in days of grey
She had her ways in command and trend
When everything of its opportunities to the downfall went
She was all short of things to soul and mind
Something others didn't notice or find
So much she gave of her inside out
That people sometimes didn’t know what that’s all about
There has been some time now since I’ve been gone
In the car she lent me just for a short while
Though I remember Miss Mary still on
For her generous ways and her always sweet smile


(Inspiration: Aunt Helen by T.S. Eliot:

MISS HELEN SLINGSBY was my maiden aunt,
And lived in a small house near a fashionable square
Cared for by servants to the number of four.
Now when she died there was silence in heaven
And silence at her end of the street.
The shutters were drawn and the undertaker wiped his feet—
He was aware that this sort of thing had occurred before.
The dogs were handsomely provided for,
But shortly afterwards the parrot died too.
The Dresden clock continued ticking on the mantelpiece,
And the footman sat upon the dining-table
Holding the second housemaid on his knees—
Who had always been so careful while her mistress lived.)