HOW STRONG THE WOMAN – A memory

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How strong the woman

How frail the man

 

He chanced upon her

Dressing

She had got so far as

Tights and knickers

Naught else

 

As is her way

A private conference

With the babe in her belly

Telling him to

Get his act together

And show up

 

She turns about face

‘Oh it’s you’

He beams

Tells her just

How wonderful she looks

‘No I don’t

I look ridiculous’

She disagrees

For once she was wrong

 

At the birth

She spat profanities

As if possessed

Seemed like an age yet

Got there in the end

 

Helpless and hopeless

He takes of his leave

For a minute or two

Nicotine and tears

In the grounds

Under the crescent moon

Composure partially restored

He returns

 

The child at her breast now

He kisses them both

Her first

 

All her life

She had had a ghost

Called George about her

Now she had her boy child

Called him George

She never did

See her ghost again

 

She cures his melancholy

Most times

The only one who can

 

Should he go the way of all flesh

This very instant

Then let it be said

He has known love

He has known devotion

That he was

Quite the luckiest fellow

 

Yet he remains in awe

Even now

How strong the woman

How frail the man

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32 thoughts on “HOW STRONG THE WOMAN – A memory

  1. For gods sake don’t let Danton near this. His editing will leave you with one line mate.
    Captures the whole journey with clarity and pace.

  2. Wonderfully moving, Mike – and the fact that it was personal to you gave it added depth and loveliness. I felt quite tearful as I read it.

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