Vista

When You Are Old

Some night when you are gray
And lonely by the muttering flame
( Closed your sweet womb,
your breasts fallen away,

The rose of one tremulous day
Haunting that loaded room)
Take up my book with your name,
Turn yellow leaves and say,
'That spring whatever the parish talk,
We made one blessed rhyme
On a shaken branch of love.
Then the eye of the hawk
Down the huge convex of time
Measured our dove'

George Mackay Brown

A warm and happy New Year to all of you dear blip pals, who by your generous responses have encouraged me through another year. XXX