I was living in Cambridge during this sad time. For no particular reason that I can recall, I felt an urge to make the train journey across country to pay a visit to my mother. I prepared the following poem en route, not knowing that my mother would depart this world only a matter of days after my arrival. She was sitting near the fireside when I saw her, nursing a hot water bottle. I explained that I had a poem to read to her and I could see that she was listening intently. When I had finished, she said: 'Well, how lovely!' She then retired to her bedroom and never left her bed again before her death a few days later.
Kirsty bheag is the Scots Gaelic for 'little Kirsty'. She was called 'little' to distinguish her from her mother, who was also called Kirsty. I completed the pen and ink drawing of the boat (21cm x 21cm) several years later and named it 'Kirsty' in honour of my mother. RIP.
Alone sate she
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| Kirsty. PB c1984 |
Alone sate she in soft and muted shade,
A fairy child of woodland ferns and flowers,
A slender sylph from Spring's most sacred glade,
A smiling sprite of silent, scented bowers.
Her careless hair was gold as sun-gold corn,
In breeze-blessed streams and tresses lightly flowing;
Her eyes were the smiling blue of a sky-blue morn,
Her cheeks with cheerest roses ever-glowing.
Withal a shape so supple, slim and svelte
As like a willow-sapling's lithely grace;
A light and happy spirit therein dwelt,
Whose dancing smiles did play upon her face.
Upon her lap an open book she lay,
Whose lines she scanned with fond and eager gaze;
Then 'loud the alien words she 'gan to say,
In heart to grave for all her mortal days.
Alone sate she, this darling Highland child,
In woods, in fields, by many a mountain stream;
But now in time long-lived to old age mild,
Of these her girlhood joys she doth but dream.
Envoi
Learn friends, this fairest She, she is no other
Than my own dear, *beloved mother.*
© PB 1977
**An alternative ending uses 'Eternal Mother'.
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