I'm sitting on the stile Mary
Where we sat side by side
On a bright May morning long ago
When first you were my bride
The corn was springing fresh and green
The lark sang loud and high
The red was on your lips Mary
And the love light in your eye
The place is little changed Mary
The day as bright as then
The lark's loud song is in my ear
And the corn is green again
But I miss the soft clasp of your hand
And your breath warm on my cheek
And I still keep listening for those words
You nevermore will speak
'Tis but a step down yonder lane
The little church stands near
The church that we were wed in Mary
I can see the spire from here
But the graveyard lies between Mary
And my step might break your rest
For I've laid you Darling down to sleep
With our baby on your breast

Ah Dabbler, that would bring the tears to my eyes.

Ann



As we age, our minds wander back. Though I am very much interested in many subjects, including local affairs where I now live, I am constantly drawn back to childhood. This poem was a part of that time. I shed many a tear thinking of it. The incongruous nature of my father's real life and the poems he recited was not, is not, lost on me, but I feel the sadder for that. x

Dabbler, I'm sure your oul da would be proud of you. Just remember he and your mother raised a good family, with very little money, just like our parents. Don't be sad, be grateful for each day, although I know this is easy to say. I would like to think I was still in my 30s, and sometimes I think I am. Not today, though. I joined a computer class this morning and to my dismay I found that I couldn't read the instructions on the blackboard. I knew I had macular degeneration but it was only today that I discovered how bad it was. However, there's nothing so bad that it can'te be worse. Byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Sorry to hear of your problem Anya, but, as you say, it could be worse.
Regular readers will know that I am an Arsenal fan; but news of a young Liverpool supporter this morning brought me to tears.A good little player apparently, he was chosen to play at the Everton ground. He hid his Liverpool shirt under the Everton gear as he took to the pitch, bless him. He was only seven or eight. Before he was nine he was diagnosed with cancer. His last wish was to see the mighty Liverpool in action, and, thanks to a Charity, he joined other fans in a private box. His mum says he couldn't stop talking about it till he died a few weeks later.

Dabs,

That song I remember singing for a party piece, then it was the usual for everyone present either to sing, recite a poem, tell a story or a joke.

The gatherings were usually at home or a friend's or relations house, a wedding or a party get-together.

Someone usually played an accordion & another a fiddle or the spoons or even a drum, sometimes made of a tin box or the arm of a chair. Great days, great company, great craic.


Pat

Pat,
It is a ver nice tune. I am sure you sang it beautifully.

Dabs,

Unfortunately I lost my singing voice. What happened.???

Pat