This work is dedicated to Hilda. An old Lady who befriended a friendless boy, and gave him comfort. I will always remember her with Love, as the mother I did not have.

Love, The Beginning
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I remember a time long ago
Through the eyes of a child I saw life
I saw the world, it seemed to glow
I had no knowledge of trouble and strife.

I remember a Christmas, it was the first
That I had really known,
I was give presents, with pride I near burst
Was told how big I had grown.

I remember a lady, stooped and old,
With eyes of the deepest, dark blue.
She wore a black shawl, to keep out the cold,
She came and went with the dew.

It was rumoured, or so the other kids said,
That she was really a Witch,
And though at first she filled me with dread
In my heart she found a niche.

Each morning she’d meet me, so gentle a smile,
She’d give me an apple, a plum or a pear.
Then we’d walk and talk for a while
Then I’d blink, she was gone, not there.

There came a day, I saw her no more,
In winter’s cold she had died.
No-one had bothered to knock on her door,
On that day, I learned how to cry.

I’ll remember that lady, so gentle and kind,
Her stooped grey head, face lined with pain.
I hope, when at last, I leave all this behind,
With her I’ll walk once again.

Robin .A. Spicer © 1992