The White Magnolia Tree

THE WHITE MAGNOLIA TREE
By Helen Deutsch

The year when I was twenty-one
(John that year was twenty-three)
That was the year, that was the spring,
We planted the white magnolia tree.
This tree," said John, "shall grow with us, And every year it will bloom anew.
This is our life. This is our love."
And the white magnolia grew and grew....
Oh, youth's a thing of fire and ice
And currents that run
Hot and white,
And its world is as bright
As the sun...
I was twenty-one...
And I wore a plume in my hat,
and we went to the movies and wept
over "Stella Dallas" and John sang
"Moonlight and Roses" (a little off
-key, but very nicely, really) and we
hurried through our crowded days and
beautiful plans, boundless ambitions
and golden decisions.
There is so much the young heart
clamors for: this it must have, and
that it cannot live without, and it must be all or nothing, for aren't we the masters of creation?
Oh, valiant and untamed were we,
When we planted the white magnolia tree!
And the white magnolia grew and grew,
Holding our love within its core,
And every year it bloomed anew,
And we were twenty-one no more.
No more untamed, no more so free,
Nor so young, nor so wild and
aflame were we.
Dearer to us then grew other things:
easy sleep, books, a day's quiet holiday, good talk beside a fire, the beauty of old faces....
We have known many things since then,
the death of a child and the bitter lesson that a heart, which breaks, must mend itself again (that it can and must be done) and what loyalty can mean and how real a word like courage can become and that solitude can be rich and gratifying and quite different from loneliness....
There is so little the serious heart
requires, friends, faith, a window open
to the world, pride in work well done,
and strength to live in a world at war
and still maintain the heart's own private peace....
Dear Heaven, I give thanks to thee
For the thinks I did not know before.
For the wisdom of maturity,
For bread, and a roof, and for
one thing more....
Thanks because I still can see
The bloom on the white magnolia tree!

Ghastly weather this morning - rain and gales, so after a leisurely breakfast and papers, we did a spot of work on the book. A walk was needed this afternoon and we set out in macs and wellies but by the time we'd arrived at the Heron Gallery it was warming up and the wind disappeared. We availed of scones and tea and had a good catch up with Annabel and Klaus. We were just about to leave when TJ appeared so more tea was taken - it would have been rude not to. We then had a very pleasant wander around their extensive garden where a barefoot path is slowly growing - rocks, gravel, sand, sea glass, corks, moss, mud and camomile ( currently growing in the polytunnel) are all some of the experiences you can savour in bare tootsies. Today we kep tour wellies on which was a bit boring I know.
This little former farmhouse is on the circuit and the magnolia is looking amazing. I wonder who planted this and when.