En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Fay and You and the Ruler.

Fay met you
on your way home
from school
standing by the entrance

of Meadow Row
she was in her school uniform
a satchel
over a shoulder

how was school?
she asked
boring and the day
too long

you replied
but at least
you can learn things
she said

like how
to make a candle
holder in woodwork?
finding some river

in India
I'll never see?
you said
she smiled shyly

well maybe you will
she said
how are you?
you asked

ok
she replied
got told off
by Sister Bernard

for not having a ruler
what did you do
with your ruler?
you asked

lost it
she said
ah well
there you are

you said
naughty naughty
she walked on
down Meadow Row

and you walked
beside her
actually
she said quietly

my daddy took it
she stood still
and stared at you
he beat me

with it
she said
in a whisper
you looked

into her eyes
and saw your
reflection there
two yous

staring back
why?
you asked
taking in her paleness

her fair hair tied
in a ponytail
he said l hadn't done
my jobs properly

jobs?
you asked
around the house
helping my mum

and did you? help?
yes usually
but I forgot
this time

big crime
you said
won't he give
the ruler back?

no
she said
he said he will keep it
as a lesson to me

can't you buy
a new one?
you asked
I haven't any money

she said
you can have
one of mine
you said

I have plenty at home
can I borrow one?
you can have one
she smiled weakly

her eyes lit up
and she took one
of your hands
and held it

I'll have to hide it though
she said
or he'll take
that one too

quite a guy your dad
you said
she looked away
at the bombed out houses

on the left hand side
you saw her hurt
and sadness
some things you can't hide.

poem by Terry Collett
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Summer 62 And You

That’s the last of school
for a while

she said
as you both descended

the school bus
and walked home

with her sister and yours
walking a small distance behind

any chance you could meet me later?
you asked

have to see
if Mother wants me

to do chores
she replied

maybe after?
you asked

she sighed
and looked up

at the late
afternoon sky

you caught her profile
and the way her cheek

was so kissable
and yet you didn’t

you just stared
have to see

won’t we
don’t want her

getting in one
of her moods

you walked on
in silence awhile

then she said
maybe able

to sneak out tomorrow
and see you

by the old pond
and you smiled

and you said
sure that’d be nice

but no funny business
she said

looking you
in the eyes

as if I would
you said

well Mother thinks you would
she muttered

looking away
so that her eyes

captured the horizon
and held it there

and you said
frankly Sweetie

I don’t give a dam or care
and she smiled and said

oh so very Clark Gable
and you both laughed

and she grabbed
your hand

and whispered
she just don’t understand.

poem by Terry Collett
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Fay and You and The Fading Bruise

Fay met you
at the bus stop
on the New Kent Road
she was dressed

in the lemon coloured dress
you liked
and her hair
was pulled tight

into a ponytail
where are you going?
she asked
to the Globe

you said
what Shakespeare's Globe?
she asked
no the fleapit cinema

at Camberwell Green
you replied
oh
she said

I've never been there
my daddy doesn't like
me going to cinemas
he says they're

dens of sin
she looked at you
as if you would confirm
her father's words

well it's certainly a den
you stated
but whether its
of sin I don't know

she looked puzzled
and touched
her ponytail
with her hand

are you coming along?
you asked
she looked about
as if her father

might be behind her
should I?
she asked
do you want to?

yes
she replied
then let's go
but I haven't any money

she said
I have enough
you said
my Mother gave me money

for chores I did
oh I see
she muttered
and she bit her lip

what would my daddy say
if he saw me?
he won't
how can you be so sure?

trust me
you said
fathers know little
of what their kids do

she smiled
if you think so
she said
sure I do

besides it'll
do you good
you said
giving her a smile

and then the bus came
and you both got on
and sat next
to each other

and you paid
the bus conductor
the fare
and as the bus

moved off
you both swayed
to the motion
of the bus

her arm touching yours
the fading bruise
on her flesh
a mixture of yellow

and brown
and blue
but you said nothing
besides you thought

if her old man
beats her
what the hell
can I do?

poem by Terry Collett
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Christina and You and Home for Lunch

As you went by
the girl's playground
after getting off

the school bus
Christina called to you
through the wire fence

and said
my mother said
you can come home

for lunch today
if you like
ok

you said
where shall I meet you?
Cedric will bring you along

she said
and so when
the lunch time

recess bell rang
you followed Cedric
out of the school

and saw Christina
by the outer fence waiting
are you sure

your mother doesn't mind?
you asked
of course not

she said
Cedric walked on in front
leaving you and Christiana

to walk on behind
she talked about some girl
in her class who had a boyfriend

and claimed
to have had sex
and then she went on

about the teacher
who had been expelled
for taking pupils home

in his lunch hour
it was boys though
she added

and then you came
to her house
and she took you in

and there was her mother
in the kitchen
nice to meet you

she said
Christina has talked
about you so much

Cedric behind
his mother's back
was making gagging gestures

with his fingers
down his throat
Christina looked at you

and smiled
nice to be here
you said

are you sure it's all right
me coming?
of course it is

Christina's mother said
now sit down
and I'll serve up for us all

and so you all sat down
around the table
and Cedric looked at you

then looked down
at his knife and fork
and Christina said

glad you're here
and she put a hand
over yours

and gave your hand
a squeeze
then removed it

when her mother
set down the plates
and then sat down herself

and you all began to eat
in an unusual silence
Christina giving you

a bright eyed stare
and Cedric looking
over your shoulder

as if you weren't there
after lunch their mother
cleared the table

of plates and went off
and Cedric went
into the lounge

leaving you and Christina alone
what do you think?
she asked

about what?
you asked
my mother

what do you think of her?
she seems nice
you said

she gets depressed a lot
Christina said
but today

she was at her best
oh right
you said

sorry she gets depressed
come on
Christina said

I'll show you my room
you raised your eyebrows
won't your mother mind?

you asked
not if she doesn't know
Christina replied

isn't it a bit risky?
you said
yes

she said
that's what makes life
so interesting

so you followed her
and tiptoed up the stairs
and she showed you

her bedroom
and her favourite doll
and other favourites of hers

lined along her bed
then she kissed you quickly
and then stood back

and smiled and said
best go down now
or she'll wonder

where we are
and so that was it
and as you followed her

down the stairs
you could hear the radio
playing some classical music

and her mother
humming along
and sounding quite happy

and Christina giving you
another kiss
behind her mother's back

and after saying thank you
to her mother
you all left

to return to school
the clouds promising rain
and so back to school

and the boring lessons
once again.

poem by Terry Collett
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Change

The other day I walked accross the street
i couldnt believe what I appeared to see...
as I looked at a poor boy who came to me
I asked him his name and he didnt know
he just asked me for change.

I asked where is your mum?
he just asked me for change
I asked where is your dad?
he just asked me for change
I asked will someone come?
he just asked me for change
I asked why are you sad?

with no response to my question there was a pause...

but then once again he asked me for change
see, as i watched him dissapear with his pain
I realised that he actualy asked me...

for a change.

poem by Daniel McCann
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The Bombed Out Butcher's Shop.

On the third day
of the holidays
you met Janice

half way up Bath Terrace
at the entrance to the flats
where she lived with her gran

she was dressed in her red beret
yellow flowered cotton dress
white socks and brown sandals

she smiled when she saw you
and said
feared you might not show

I told you I'd be here
you said
she looked at you

and said
I know
but some people say things

but don't show
I'm not some people
if I say I'll be here

I'll be here
you said
glad you're here

she said
Gran doesn't like me
going out alone

she says there are strange men
out there who take kids off
and do things to them

and murder them
yes
you said

I read about that boy
they found murdered
near here

she looked concerned
don't worry
you're with me

my mum told me
where to kick them
if they try anything on

oh
Janice said as you both
walked up to the top

of the terrace
to Harper Road
where're we going?

she asked
a bombed out
butcher's shop

you replied
isn't that dangerous?
she asked

not if we're careful
where we tread
you said

isn't that breaking
and entering?
she asked

no we don't break in
you said
we walk in

the back gate
it's not locked
oh

she said
looking concerned
we won't get into trouble

will we? Gran said
she'd tan my backside
if I got into trouble

would I get you into trouble?
you asked
guess not

she said softly
you crossed
Harper Road

and went round the back
of the bombed out
butcher's shop

and opened the gate
and entered
into an empty yard

you shut the gate
after you
and she stood gaping

at the back of the shop
you showed her
the large walk in freezer

where meat had once
been kept
now empty

smelling of piss
and damp
what if you got locked in?

she said
the lock's busted
you said

oh I see
she replied
her eyes large

and her mouth open
in wonder
you took her into

the shop now empty
apart from a large table
with a marble top

where meat
had once been cut
and chopped up

it stinks
she said
yes tramps get in

sometime and shelter
for the night
are they here now?

she asked nervously
no they go off
in the day

you said
giving her
a smile

you took her up
the creaking stairs
to the upper landing

where the sky
shone through the roof
where a bomb

had fallen in
gosh
she said

how weird
one of the rooms
had an old bed frame

pushed in a corner
and the roof
was still there

except where a few tiles
had gone
someone slept there once

she said
and now
they're probably dead

you took her hand
and walked her
to the window

and looked out
on Harper Road
people would have looked out

of this window too
you said
sad isn't it

she said
and you sensed
her lay

on your shoulder
her fair haired
red bereted head.

poem by Terry Collett
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You and Jackson Pollock.

How's the girl
with the red beret?

your sister asked
she'd seen you

and Janice
and her gran

on the way home
from school

she probably walking
with her friend

following behind
and Janice said

I made a picture today
out of cut up

pieces of paper
and the teacher said

it was the best
she'd seen

her gran said
Now now Janice

mustn't boast
I expect

there were other pictures
equally as good

But teacher said it
not me

Janice replied
Did you make a picture?

her gran asked you
her eyes falling on you

and taking in
your look

like a rabbit caught
in headlamps of a car

in the night
Yes

you said
I made a picture

of a morning sunset
out of red and yellow

and green for the grass
and blue for the sky

Janice smiled
and touched your hand

surreptitiously
her small hand

feeling along
your skin

Did you make it
out of cut up

pieces of paper too?
her gran asked

you sensed Janice's fingers
squeezing into your hand

No
you replied

I did it with water colour paints
and what did teacher say?

her gran asked
she said it reminded her

of a Jackson Pollock
whoever he is

you said
looking at Janice's red beret

and her hair
coming from beneath

so wonderfully
unlike your

short back and sides
and unlike her hair

with its red coloured
hair slides.

poem by Terry Collett
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After School Walk

After lessons at junior school
coming down the bricks stairs

Helen said
can I walk home with you?

Sure
you replied

and she set off with you
along St George's Road

the traffic and smoke fumes
setting the scene

she in her school frock
and cardigan

and white ankle socks
beside you in your grey jacket

and grey short trousers
and she said

I don't usually walk home alone
but mum said I can walk home

with you save her coming along
to the school with the other kids

and pram with baby
you took in

her two plaits of hair
and thin framed glasses

with large lens
which made her eyes

larger than they were
her small hands

by her side
a small school bag

over her shoulder
and did you know

Janice likes you?
Her grandmother

told my mother
the other day

after school
but I like you better

do you like me?
she asked

you noticed
she had small white teeth

with a thin brace
along the top

sure I do
you replied

I like Janice too
but you I like more

and she smiled
and put her right hand

in yours and squeezed it
and you smiled

but hoped none
of the other boys around

noticed the hand holding
after all a tough boy

has a reputation to maintain
and as you squeezed

her hand back
clouds darkened

and it started
to piss with rain.

poem by Terry Collett
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A Matter of Trust on a Summer's Day

Jane's mother said
she was up by the church
and so you went up

the path leading
to the church of St Mary
and there she was

laying some flowers
on a gravestone
she looked up

as you approached
and smiled
your mother told me

you were here
you said
I think Mother

must like you
she wouldn't
have told you

otherwise
Jane said
getting up

from the graveside
and brushing her hands
on her summery dress

who are the flowers for?
you asked
looking at the flowers

placed in a small jar
on the grave
a parishioner

we used to know
who used to like
this type of flower

oh I see
you said
looking at the graves around

and the Downs further back
and the trees nearby
where did you want to go?

you asked
how about a walk to Cocking?
we can do some shopping

while we're there
and enjoy each other's
company in the process

is it far? you asked
a mile or so
she replied

ok
you said
and you followed her

down the path
and along the lane
to her house

and you waited outside
while she went inside
after a few minutes

her mother came out
with her and said
it's very good of you

to go with Jane
all that way
I wouldn't like her

to go alone
that's all right
you said

and she smiled
and went in side
and Jane said

see she trusts you
not many boys
around here

she'd say that to
oh right
you said

looking at
her dark hair
and her eyes

gazing at you
and her hand
holding a shopping bag

and her lips
breaking into a smile
come on

she said and
so she took
your hand

and you walked
along the lane
keeping close

to the hedgerow
the sun warm
and the sky blue

and you sensed a joy
of it being
just her and you.

poem by Terry Collett
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A Question of Love.

After climbing off
the school bus
she grabbed the sleeve

of your coat and said
I want to talk to you
and so you stayed behind

as your sister and hers
walked on ahead
and her brothers ran off

in a game of tag
she released your sleeve
and brushed the hair

out of her eyes
what is it? you asked
walking beside her

along the side of the road
the winter afternoon darkening
what was Roland

saying to you in class?
she asked
Roland?

yes Roland
in the last lesson of maths?
you looked over

at the tall trees
becoming tall giants
as the sky began to dim

he was talking about his sister
you said
then why was he looking at me?

perhaps he finds you attractive
you replied
she slapped your arm

with her hand
don't talk nonsense
he wouldn't find

Marilyn Monroe attractive
if she sat
on his bony knees

she said looking at you
with her big blue eyes
you rubbed

your injured arm
playfully
he was saying his sister

had found his collection
of dirty magazines under his bed
you said

a car whizzed by
and she turned
and shouted back at it

some words her mother
would have slapped her
for saying

she sighed and said
why can't you tell me the truth?
you stopped and stood facing her

her blue eyes gazing at you
searching yours
as if she'd left something there

on a previous occasion
he said he didn't know
what I saw in you

her eyes enlarged
and what did you say?
she asked

in the sky over her shoulder
the moon was beginning to shine
in competition

with the weak sun
I said you snogged
pretty good

you said
she slapped your arm
and walked on

no
you called out
I was only joking

she stopped
and turned
and glared at you

I said you were the best thing
to happen to me
since God created Sundays

you're lying
she said
all right

you said
seeing her eyes watering
I said I loved you

you said
looking at her
wondering if her hand

might slap you again
did you?
yes

and what did he say?
she asked
he just shrugged

his shoulders
and drew a picture
of Mr Parrot on the corner

of his maths book
she was silent
and looked by you

at the incoming traffic
then kissed your cheek
leaving a damp patch

like a small oasis
on a dry landscape
of your 14 year old skin

conjuring up images
her mother
would define as sin.

poem by Terry Collett
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Waiting By The School Gates

Look who's over
by the school gates
Reynard said
and you looked over

and there was Christina
with her school bag
over her shoulder
and her hands tucked

in the pockets
of her green coat
see you tomorrow
Reynard said

and walked on
giving Christina a stare
as he did most girls
finding them an enigma

yet to be solved
when you got
to where Christina was
she took her hands

out of her pockets
and put a hand
on your arm
I wish I was going

on the school bus
with you
then I could sit next to you
and I could tell you

about myself
and not have to cram
everything into a rush
of words as I do

at school
you looked over
to where the school bus
was waiting

you still had
five minutes
or so before
it took off

and you knew
Fred the driver
always did
a head count

before hand
don't you wish
I was there
on the bus too?

she asked
squeezing your arm
with her fingers
you turned

and looked at her
sure I do
you said
but you live here

and I live miles away
I know
she said
and I miss you

once your bus goes off
and I know
I won't see you
until the following day

and the weekend is worse
because then
I don't see you
for two whole days

other kids
passing through
the school gates
stared at you both

and Hill said
come on
or you'll miss
the bus

and he laughed
and moved on
and Christina stared
after him and said

what's his problem?
and you said
oh he hasn't been born yet
he gets this way

and she laughed
and said
maybe I'll come
on the country bus

to your village
and we can meet?
sure that'd be good
you said

and her eyes lit up
and she smiled
and leaned
towards you

and gave your cheek
a peck
and you said
look I got to go

and you took her hand
and gave it
a quick kiss
then turned

and walked quickly
towards the bus
knowing her eyes
were following

your every step
and that maybe
she dreamed
of you at night

and imagined you
beside her
and her dolls
and Teddy Bear

and you in turn
maybe imagined
at night
you too were there.

poem by Terry Collett
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Helen and You and a Bag of Chips

After school
after tea
of bread and jam
a mug of tea

and a slice of cake
you met Helen
under the railway bridge
in Rockingham Street

and she was holding
Battered Betty her doll
in her arms
and she said

Betty wanted to come
she gets lonely
stuck at home
ok

you said
as long as she's quiet
and doesn't cry
all the time

she won't
Helen said
does your mum know
you're out?

you asked
of course
Helen replied
but she said

not to be late
or come home
in the dark
you'll be safe

I've got my six-shooter
with me
you said
tapping the toy gun

tucked in the belt
of your jeans
I told Mum
I was with you

and she said ok
I don't think
she'd let me out
otherwise

a train clattered
over the bridge
over head
let's go

you said
and the three of you
walked up and along by
the Trocadero cinema

she talking about
Battered Betty's day
and what Carmody
had said at school

and how he smelt
of B.O. and cabbages
you watched the people
passing along

the New Kent Road
a constant stream
passing back
and forth

and still Helen talked
as you walked
Carmody's just a fink
you said

take no notice
what he says
and she clutched your hand
with her free hand

not clutching the doll
and you both ran
across the road
and stood outside

the Odeon cinema
gazing at the still photos
in the frames
of what film was showing inside

don't fancy that
you said
too much kissing
and women crying

and boring men
what's wrong with kissing?
Helen asked
better than men

shooting guns
or riding horses
over yellow deserts
making women cry

you looked at her
with her large eyes
behind her thick lens glasses
watery as lakes

and her brown hair
plaited into two plaits
sure
you said

how about a bag of chips?
she nodded then said
I've got no money
don't worry my dad

gave me 6d
for polishing his shoes
the other day
you said

ok
she said
and you walked down
towards the Neptune fish shop

and asked for 6d of chips
and the man
with the one eye
scooped chips

into a bag
and you gave him
the money
and Helen sprinkled

salt and vinegar over them
and you both went outside
and stood together
and shared the bag of chips

and each chip tasted
hot and salty
and warmed your insides
and Helen kissed your cheek

with her greasy warm lips
and said
thank you for these
and you said

no problem
anything to please
and you felt
the damp kiss

there on your cheek
and you smiled
to yourself
thinking

I won't wash that off
for a week.

poem by Terry Collett
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Unexpected Father.

Your mother
had brought Helen

home for tea after school
and she had held on

to the handle
of the pram

your mother pushed
and you walked

along side
thinking of whether

to show her
your toy soldiers

and cowboys and Indians
and the guns

that fired
loud banging caps

or whether to just sit
and watch the TV

and eat your tea
and show her nothing

but once you got home
and your mother went off

to the kitchen to prepare
the tea stuff and such

Helen looked at you
and shyly smiled

and said
Can I see your sister's dolls

and pram
and does she have

a doll's house
I could play with?

you dismissed the idea
of showing her

the guns that fired caps
or your toy soldier collection

and took her
into the room

where you kept the toys
and pointed to

your sister's dolls
and the pram

and said
Take care

my sister doesn't like
people messing

with her stuff
and Helen nodded

and picked up a doll
and held it to her chest

and rocked it
to and fro

and walked up and down
murmuring there there sounds

that echoed softly
around the room

Where's your sister?
Helen asked

will she mind me
rocking the baby to sleep?

Guess not
you replied

and stood watching her
as she walked

and talked to the doll
in an undertone

and you stood there
hands in pockets

like a father
of an unexpected child

wondering what to say
or do and taking in

her thick lens glasses
and her eyes

seemingly enlarged
focusing on the doll

and the way her head
moved from side to side

so that her plaited hair
went from side to side

and up and down
and she said softly

and suddenly
We may have a baby like this

one day and you had better
say something more

than you are now
or I'll think

you didn't want it
and off she walked

up and down the room
and hoped your mother

would come soon
and save you from the fate

of being the father
of a doll with a dodgy eye

and a painted smile
but having a tender spot

for Helen
all the while.

poem by Terry Collett
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I Told Myself

I told myself
You do love me
Is it really true?
She asked me

I told myself
You care for me
Are you really sure?
She asked me

I told myself
You do miss me
As often as you?
She asked me

I told myself
You need me too
Are you guessing?
She asked me

I told myself
You never tell me
Why on Earth?
She asked me

I told myself
You hide a lot…
Is that friendship?
She asked me

I told myself
You think too much
Does he not feel?
She asked me

Tell me, my love
What shall I say?
To all those queries
That she asked me...

How should I answer?
What should I ponder?
Tell me the truth
For she still asks me...

You For Me
And Me For You
Is it the Future?
One last Question
She did ask me.

I don’t have the answers
Yet she keeps asking me…
May be, she knows,
One day, one moment
You’ll let her know
How you feel for me...

poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Standing Beside Fay One Saturday.

It was Saturday morning
and Fay stood beside you

on the balcony of the flats
looking over the Square

she pointed at the baker
and his horse drawn cart

down by the wall below
my daddy says he's Jewish

she said
those who asked

for the death of Christ
you followed the baker

as he made his way to the stairs
carrying his bread basket

I don't think he was involved
you said watching the baker

until he disappeared up the stairs
she looked right over the balcony

gripping the brick wall
with her hands

I don't think he's Jewish at all
she said letting her feet

dropp back on the floor
and it doesn't matter if he is

I think he's a nice man
she added

looking at you
with her bright blue eyes

and you gazed at her
standing there

her flowered dress
colourful and coming

just below her knees
her battered sandals

having seen
better days

and her fair hair
tied into a ponytail

at the back
she looked over

the balcony again
I like to feed his horse

with sugar cubes
I get from home

she said thoughtfully
you lean over the balcony

beside her
your elbow touching hers

the pulse of her being
vibrating into your arm

you imagine
don't your parents mind

you taking their sugar?
you asked

she looked guiltily away
they don't know

she said softly
daddy would punish

if he knew
she paused and then said

you won't tell them will you?
the baker came along

the balcony behind you both
whistling happily

of course not
you said

taking in her
trembling jaw line

her blue eyes
and her lips slightly open

her words gone
it's a nice day

the baker called
yes

you both replied
I don't think he's Jewish

she said
anyway.

poem by Terry Collett
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Judy and You and Chagall

What did you think
of the Chagall postcard print
I bought you?
Judy asked as you both sat

outside the Fox Inn
I pinned it on my wall
you replied
and stared at it every time

I entered the room
thinking of you
she sipped her drink
her eyes searching you

her hair tied behind
in a ponytail
so I gathered
by your letters

she said
putting her glass
on the small wooden table
I missed you

you said
I went to London
while you were away
and saw you

in every girl I saw
even at the ballet
at the opera house
she looked at her glass

I was only away for a week
she said
it seemed a year
you said

you inhaled the cigarette
you were holding
taking in her hair
and eyes and how

her lips moved
as she spoke
Florence was fantastic
she said

I picked out
that Chagall print for you
in one of the art galleries
who did you go with?

you asked
friends
she replied
male or female?

both
she said
you inhaled the cigarette again
and thought of the first time

you kissed her
how the moonlight
shone on her face
as you moved her around

you mustn't be so jealous
she said
I have to see others
who was the guy?

Henrik
she said
you imagined her
and this Henrik

making out
in some Florence hotel
his hands touching her
I thought of you

every moment
you said
that's sad
she said

why?
you said
because no one
should think of another

that often
she sipped her drink
and looked around
at the evening sky

how was Florence?
beautiful
she said
like you

you said
I am like Shakespeare's' lily
she said
as it withers

she added
I see
you said
and you studied

her hands as they lifted
the glass to her lips
the fingers
the skin

the way they held
the glass
did you read my letters
when you got home?

you asked
yes
she said
every single one

my mother said
I must have besotted
some poor soul
and you thought

of the Chagall print
and how you had sniffed it
for traces of her scent
and remembered

your mother's words
nothing is given forever
things in this world
are only lent.

poem by Terry Collett
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What Matilda Said

Matilda closed the door. Matilda
Saw Millie by the window. Her maid’s
Uniform looked tight at the rear. She
Wanted to place her arms around her
Waist, kiss her neck. Millie turned and
Said, He’s out there with Mrs Dimmable.
Matilda walked to the window and stared.
She sensed Millie beside her; heard her
Breathing, the brush of her sleeve against
Her arm. Looks happy enough, Matilda said
Of Mrs. Dimmable. You didn’t sleep too well
Last night, Millie said, turning, going to the
Bed. She pulled back the covers, smoothed
Out the sheet. Matilda went around the other
Side of the bed and looked at Millie. You were
Tossing and turning, Millie said looking up.
Matilda helped make the bed and said, Sorry
About that. Millie stared at Matilda and said
You murmured words. Did I? Matilda replied.
Yes, Millie said, looking at her hands. What did
I say? Matilda asked. You muttered my name.
Millie stood back from the bed, gazed at Matilda.
You said things. What things? Said you loved me.
Millie blushed at the words. Matilda patted the
Pillow but said nothing. She brushed her hands
Over the covers, pushed away creases. She paused.
Looked at the window. Smelt the flowers in a vase.
Do you? Millie asked. Love me? Matilda stared
Out at Mrs Dimmable and the new gardener.
Her lips wanted to move but nothing came.
Her eyes watered. The world was awash. Millie
Walked to the window, put her arms around Matilda’s
Waist, her fingers formed a knot on Matilda’s stomach.
Matilda placed her hands over Millie’s.
They do look in love and contented don’t they?
Millie said over Matilda’s shoulder. Matilda’s sensed
The warm breath. Yes, she said, they do. Do you?
Millie’s breath uttered softly into her ear, yes.

poem by Terry Collett
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It's a sick day off

It's Monday,
I said, ' I can't go to school today.'
Mom asked, ' Why can't you go son? '
' Well I have the flu and chicken pox. I need a warm cinnamon bun.'
'Eat a cinnamon bun, rest, and be ready for school tomorrow while rising with the sun.'

It's Tuesday,
I said, ' I can't go to school like yesterday.'
Mom asked, ' Why not Nate? '
' I have the mumps and measles and I think it is because of what I ate.'
' Well you're going to miss you school debate.'
Mom said back, ' Go to rest and hopefully you can go to school tomorrow with your sister Kate.'

It's Wednesday,
I said to Mom, ' I can't go to school like Tuesday.'
Mom asked, ' Why not my sweet boy? '
' I'm coughing and I got a headache also say I can't play today to my best friend Roy.'
' Go to bed dear child so you can go to school tomorrow with joy.'

It's Thursday,
I said, ' I can't go to school like Wednesday, Tuesday, and Monday.'
Mom asked, ' Why not lad.'
' I'm giddy, dizzy, and feeling pretty bad.'
' You must be feeling bad that's why I feel so sad.'
Mom said back, ' Rest now and it won't be so bad.'

It's Friday,
I said, ' I can't go to school again today.'
Mom said, ' Don't worry there is no school today.'
' No school! I'm going out to play now.'

poem by Saimun Shahee
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What Others May Think.

Apart from the water tower
and the farm

and a few scattered cottages
there were no other buildings

for a mile or more
just you and Jane

and birds in the early morning sky
I like it at this time of day

she said
I like the fresh smell of nature

and the farm
and having few people about

you walked beside her down the lane
that led away from the farm

you noticed how her black hair
seemed freshly washed

and blew slightly in the mild wind
does you father mind

you being out with me?
you asked softly

he doesn't know
she replied

he thinks I came out alone
for a morning walk

why didn't you tell him?
you asked

he was busy writing his Sunday sermon
and it was easier to just go out

and not disturb him
she said looking around at you

her eyes studying you
as she walked on down the lane

would he mind you being with me?
you asked

I don't think he knows you as yet
seeing as you have only moved here

a few months and don't come
to the church

you stopped and took her hand in yours
it was warm and soft

and pulsed with life
she looked at your hand

holding hers and she rubbed
her thumb over the back

of your hand
you wanted to kiss her lips

or cheek just to feel
her flesh on yours

but you didn't you just looked at her
and waited to see

what she would do next
she let go of your hand

and looked around her
there might be people looking

from those cottages up there
she said suddenly pointing up

at the rising bank which went up
to two cottages high up

if they see us they may tell Father
and then it would be awkward

and he might suspect things
and then she went quiet

and looked at the running stream
by the lane

but we haven't done anything
we just walk out and talk

and hold hands now and then
it's not what we do

it's what others think we do
she said softly

and stood looking at you
waiting for you to speak

but you said nothing
just leaned in close to her

and kissed her cheek
and said

even Christ permitted kisses
even the one from Judas

and she smiled
and the early morning sun

pushed through trees
and shone on her hair

and there was the sound of birds
singing in the air.

poem by Terry Collett
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Outside the Cinema.

After tea
you went out

into the summer evening
without cowboy hat

or rifle
but your six shooter

tucked in the belt
of your jeans

to meet Helen
under the railway bridge

next to the Duke of Wellington
public house

I thought you weren't coming
Helen said

standing in her summer dress
and holding her favourite doll

Battered Betty
my horse refused to come

so I had to walk
you said

Helen smiled
my mum knows I'm with you

but I mustn't be out late
Helen said

where shall we go?
you asked

let's go and see
what's on at the cinema

Helen said
so you both walked

along the back streets
until you came

onto the main road
and studied the cinema billboards

I saw Davy Crockett here
you said

who's he?
Helen asked

he was a frontiersman
who fought Indians

and wore a bearskin hat
you said

was he here?
Helen asked

it was a film
you replied

oh
she said

she swung Battered Betty
behind her back

from hand to hand
I haven't been

to the pictures recently
mum said we can't afford it

what about Saturday matinee?
you asked

you could come to that
it's for kids only

and it's fun
Helen brought Battered Betty

into her arms
I'm not sure

she said
I could asked your mum

you said
I'd take care of you

I've got my six shooter
Helen put her hand

in your hand
and said

ok she'd listen to you
Helen said

you felt her hand in yours
and hoped no boys

who knew you
saw this or

the following
small lips kiss.

poem by Terry Collett
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Helen and You and the Bombed Out Factory

Ought we to go in there?
Helen asked
as you both stood outside

the bombed out factory
off Rockingham Street
sure we should

you said
but it's got
STAY OUT signs

on the big doors
she said
you looked at her

with her thick lens glasses
and her hair tied in plaits
nibbling her finger in anxiety

come on in
you said
nothing will happen to you

while you're with me
she didn't look convinced
what if someone sees us?

she asked
no one cares around here
kids are always going

on bombsites
you said
she looked around

her eyes seemingly larger
than they were
are you sure?

she said
yes now come on
and you took

her small hand
and pulled her through
a small opening

in the side
where other kids
had made an entrance

she a pulled face
on the other side
of the gate

and rubbed her arm
where a line of blood showed
look

she said
I've scratched myself
you dabbed at it

with a grey handkerchief
and spittle and she watched
as you cleared up

the line of blood
will it be all right?
yes

you said
it'll be fine
and you walked on

across the yard
and into the bombed out factory by
a door hanging

on its hinges
and into the dark interior
she stood by the entrance inside

and took in the semi darkness
it's frightening
she said

no one is here
you said
how do you know?

she asked
it's too quiet
you said

she leaned closer to you
and grabbed your arm
what was that?

she whispered
a rat probably
what? she said

a rat
you said
let's go out

she said
nothing will hurt you
while I'm here

and you patted
the toy gun
in the belt

of your jeans
she looked at you
then out

into the semi darkness
you walked in
and up the stone stairs

by a wall
and she followed
her breathing

becoming louder
as you walked up
once at the top

and along a landing
you came to a small office
where the door was missing

and there was a hole
in the roof where a bomb
had blown it off

as well as other parts
of the building
you stood

looking around
the room
where rain had rotted

what furniture remained
and on the floor
were books soaked

and rotting
Helen said
can we go now?

you looked up
through the hole
in the roof

and there
was the afternoon sun
and a white cloud

moving slowly across
a blue sky
and she moved

next to you
and kissed your cheek
but you didn't know why.

poem by Terry Collett
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