I may have mentioned my sister in Tasmania before. I missed her at the New Year [and yes, this blog has been a long time coming, due to computer problems…] but here is the poem I wrote for her.
The midnight hour approaches,
The bells resound at last,
And softly, softly, softly,
Comes the vision of the past.
Fondly, oh so fondly,
The long lost voices call,
That’s Father from his reading seat,
Mother busy in the hall.
She’s sweeping and she’s scrubbing,
While he’s puffing on his pipe
And dreaming of an amber glass
At the Duke of York tonight.
But the midnight hour is passing,
And the voices cease to call,
No Father lifts his amber glass,
No Mother strides the hall.
Just a child’s voice is calling,
To a child across the sea,
“Oh remember at this midnight hour,
To fondly think of me.”
Better late than never..and more to come.