1188. Poem - Thomas McGrath -

How could I have come so far

(And always on such dark trails)

I must have traveled by the light

shining from the faces of all those I have loved.

1187. The Ticket - Anne Porter

 On the night table

beside my bed

I keep a small

blue ticket

One day I found it

In my pocket book

I don’t know how

It got there

I don’t know 

What it’s for

On one side

there’s a number 

 98833

And

INDIANA TICKET COMPANY

On the other side

The only thing it says

Is KEEP THIS TICKET

I keep it carefully

Because I’m old

Which means

I’ll soon be leaving

For another country

Where possibly

Some blinding-bright

enormous angel

Will stop me

At the border 

And ask 

To see my ticket.

1186. Brown Penny - William Butler Yeats

I whispered, "I am too young."

and then, “I am old enough”.

Wherefore I thew a penny

To find out if I might love.

“Go and love, go and love, young man,

If  the lady be young and fair”

Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,

I am looped in the loops of her hair.

O love is the crooked thing,

There is nobody wise enough 

To find out all that is in it,

For he would be thinking of love

Till the stars had run away

And the shadows eaten the moon.

Ah penny, brown penny, brown penny,

One cannot begin it too soon.

1185. Nothing Is Lost - Noel Coward

Deep in the sub-conscious we are told

Lie all our memories, lie all the notes

Of all the music we have ever heard 

And all the phrases those we loved have spoken, 

Sorrows and losses time has since consoled,

Family jokes, outmoded anecdotes

Each sentimental souvenir and token

Everything seen, experienced, each word

Addressed to us in infancy before,

Before we we could even know or understand

The implications of our wonderland.

There they all are, the legendary lies

The birthday treats, the sights, the sounds, the tears

Forgotten debris of forgotten years

Waiting to be recalled, waiting to rise

Before our world dissolves before our eyes

Waiting for some small, intimate reminder,

A word, a tune, a known familiar scent

And echo from the past when, innocent

We looked upon the present with delight

And doubted not the future would be kinder

A never knew the loneliness of night.