LOVE LETTERS FROM THE PAST

[Maureen K Clifford]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D-mzrXnMAu8


LOVE LETTERS FROM THE PAST



I found it tucked away inside a yellowed satin dress,
that had its bodice close encrusted with small pearls.
It was bound with satin ribbons, and had no return address
and inside there was a tress of jet black curls.

Fine paper made of parchment, and handwriting big and bold
in pale blue ink - no doubt indigo in its time.
The paper felt quite brittle, and was worn across its folds
and the envelope bore the same name as mine.
I opened up the pages, taking a great deal of heed
as my eyes in dimness strained to read the page.
The curlicues and flourishes made the words hard to read
but I heard the story told across the age.

It told of battles fought and won, of loss, and dark despair.
Of mateship, hardship, hunger, pain and fear.
Of missing family and friends, and the land for which he cared,
how he hoped the war would cease by end of year.
The letter told of love undying. It had travelled here by boat
with a lock of his hair inside for his sweet girl,
to put into the locket that she wore around her throat.
When he returned he’d replace the gold chain with pearls.

He wrote of sand and sickness, and the final bloody push,
but he begged her not to worry just the same.
For he was an Aussie fighting man – a tough man from the bush
and a crack shot with a rifle. He was game.
He said he could stand anything if he knew she was there
waiting for him at the gate when he returned.
Please give his love to family and give his Mum a hug
and tell them for the country he still yearned.

‘Ask Dad to put Sweet Nelly to the stallion this May,
I’ll be needing a new horse once I return.
I’ve always rather thought the genes were good in Drifters Way
and I doubt that by Sweet Nelly he’ll be spurned.’
I turned the pages noticing the ink was splotched with tears
and some script had disappeared from off the page.
Then I noticed in the envelope a sheet yellowed by years
an old telegram as best as I could gauge.

‘I regret to inform you that Pte. J. C .Brown was killed
with others here on the sixteenth of May .
The lines were shelled by enemy fire – not one of them would yield.
His died instantly at Flanders Fields today.
John always did his duty and I hope that makes you proud
the Company and C.O. sympathize with your loss.
He gave his life for his country, and in death he was not cowed.
He is buried ‘neath a simple soldiers cross.’

I looked a little further found a soft red velvet pouch
with a glint of gold deep hidden in its depths.
It was my great Aunts locket with his picture still inside
and a poem that she penned there as she wept.
‘He lies buried in the fields of France, they left him where he fell
and my heart is buried with him over there.
No other man will have my heart. There will be no chapel bells.
This is my promise and on his sweet head I swear.

I’ll take the foal that Nelly bears, and ride the hills of home.
On the homesteads hilltops each day I will pray
for John. May his soul rest in peace –may his spirit not roam
and my wedding gown I’ll put away today.
The locket that he gave me, and his letters, and his hair,
along with all my hopes and foolish dreams
will be encased in iron bands, in attics stark and bare
and only the hills of home will hear my screams.’

I tucked the letter back inside the yellowed satin dress
with the locket and the tress of jet black hair.
For ninety years they’d rested here securely. I confess
that their secret was one which I would not share.

Maureen Clifford © 12/10

[Heather]

A lovely story Maureen.

Heather

[Maureen K Clifford]

Thank you Heather - it was written as a follow on to The Lady of Lavender Hills

Cheers

Maureen

[Terry]

G/day Maureen,
After hearing your recitals of 'Always In My Heart' & 'Lavender Hills" I'd love to hear your rendition of this one.

I'm that far behind with what's on the forum at the moment, that I don't think I will ever catch up again.

Regards Terry

[Maureen K Clifford]

Thanks Terry - as a result of your comment I did it up as an Audio/Video so hope you like it.

All the voices are mine digitally altered thanks to the Audacity program.

Cheers

Maureen