Friday, September 7

Poem for Today

I was going to make this a Saturday song, but it's as much about the poem as the music. (The song is Towerblock by Julia Fordham.)

The poem is by Marianne Wade, who lost her mother (in awful stages, I imagine) to Alzheimer's, but it pertains to anyone who has ever lost a person they loved, whether they died or just went away. A beautiful song, a meaningful poem, a lovely video.

Deep thanks to Marianne for allowing me to embed this...she had embedding turned off and changed that just for me.


  1. *sniff*

    Yeah, I just got through the fifth anniversary of losing my parents. There's still a whole list of "should have's" written on my heart. But they are fading.

    Thanks for this.

  2. beautiful. thanks.

  3. That was so beautiful and you guided the meaning nicely with your introduction....

    I like this too....

    I knew her for a little ghost
    That in my garden walked;
    The wall is high -- higher than most --
    And the green gate was locked.

    And yet I did not think of that
    Till after she was gone --
    I knew her by the broad white hat,
    All ruffled, she had on.

    By the dear ruffles round her feet,
    By her small hands that hung
    In their lace mitts, austere and sweet,
    Her gown's white folds among.

    I watched to see if she would stay,
    What she would do -- and oh!
    She looked as if she liked the way
    I let my garden grow!

    She bent above my favourite mint
    With conscious garden grace,
    She smiled and smiled -- there was no hint
    Of sadness in her face.

    She held her gown on either side
    To let her slippers show,
    And up the walk she went with pride,
    The way great ladies go.

    And where the wall is built in new
    And is of ivy bare
    She paused -- then opened and passed through
    A gate that once was there.

    The Little Ghost
    Edna St. Vincent Millay


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