The time and date is:
3:48 am Saturday, 11 July 2020
* Home

* Ballads
* Ballad Features
* Burns
* McGonagall
* Other Poetry
* Scottish Writers
* Scots Glossary

* Alphabetical List
* Featured List

* List of Topics

* Scottish Songs
* Modern Songs

* Submit a Poem
* Submit a Song

* Copyright
* Permission
* Privacy
* Standards

Web Links
* Other Sites

* About Us
* E-mail Us

The Gift ©

For my beautiful wife Jackie on our fortieth anniversary

Thomas Matthew Edgar
Melbourne, Australia

Standing by the back step,
near a bush beside the door,
the statuette I bought that day
when you were twenty four.

A flowering vine surrounds her,
there's daisies round her feet.
She holds a puppy in her arms;
the picture looks complete.

Where we now show the signs of age,
a long time past our prime,
our statuette looks much the same,
an image locked in time.

It seems she's taken on a life,
a life of her very own,
this little present that I bought,
this statue made of stone.

Perhaps the love I felt that day
has left us with a sign.
Perhaps my gift, in some strange way,
clothed in a flowering vine,

is trying to tell us something,
a sign to us alone
that true love in its purest form
can breathe life into stone.

Web Site by IT-SERVE © 1999 - 2020 All Rights Reserved Return to top