Friday, August 24, 2012

The Arch

                              Brenda Bryant


THE WEEKEND IN BLACK AND WHITE

THE ARCH

A country excursion led us to a church,
And surroundings not stylish or quaint.
Some trees and a path leading off to the left;
Not something an artist would paint.
But seen through a window that's arched as of old,
The scene seems to echo the glow
Of battlements, brave knights and chivalrous times
And a sense of the long, long ago.
*
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PROMISES, PROMISES

I was a British War Bride,
And I married a fine G.I.
And then we left for America,
The Land of the Apple Pie.
He promised me the earth
But when we got to his shack,
I looked in through the window
And saw his mother looking back!
A pale and sickly creature,
She gave me such a look!
And what did my lover say to me.......
'Mother says she hopes you cook'.

*

1 comment:

Mumsy said...

Oh I love that little Promises, Promises poem, especially the last part when she wanted to know if you cook :-)