Something for the traditionalist ...

 Views in Verse 
- on travesty. 

Something for the traditionalist...
Victorian setting, lost love, stormy seas,
the mysterious lady.

The Rose, the Sun and the Sea

She was the kindest of woman

her beauty long lost to the sun

She came to this port as a stranger

for the love of "a wayward one"

Most thought:

 "he'd since died a sailor"

Put it down to his 'late father's bent'

But back to this headland

she'd return each day

Early ...without relent

After this vigil

She'd walk through town

Shoulders thrown back as she'd go

Watching out 

for new arrivals

the coachman's brow would lo'

In the early years 

neat and composed

Never missing the odd chance to talk

Her appearance waned

with each new year

yet purpose still clear in her walk

She'd stop and she'd chat

to the waifs and the needy

A port town carries it's share

Helping out at the sailor's home too

Plenty of work to do there

She also worked hard for a living

under the Milliner's shop

Until one grey morn'

when the Constable announced:

"her rounds had come to a stop"

It seems the Squire

from a nearby cove

had called that very same day

With ghastly news 

that a body was found

Floating ...face down ...in the bay

Her funeral was said to be touching

All of the children were there

Even the seamen 

made their way up the hill

with flowers ...to rest in her hair

The Mayor declared her (to be)

"of good breeding"...

who came to us 'through the back door"

Describing such situations as "travesties..."

"...such things shouldn't happen at all"

Most would have noticed too

a stranger there...

Sitting amongst the throng

A refined old woman...

Who said not a word...

In a short while she was gone

The Landlord later noted:

"personal things were taken...

...right to the very last one"

All that was left 

in his seaward loft

Was a rose...

...now bleached by the sun.

Forwarded from my I pad - Grahame J Flynn