Sleep Charm
Mistily my sleep comes down
(What now of the brilliant sea)
Mistily the silken brown
Quiet darkness covers me
Quietly my sleep draws near
(What now of the winds long flight)
Quietly it comes the solemn clear
Nothingness of my night
Muriel was sitting on the old settee in the garden watching the express trains thunder by
That is such a sad poem
Did you write it?
No it was written over ninety years ago in 1924
Jackie looked at the ragged settee and pushed her slim fingers into a gap between the arm and the headrest
Really we must dispose of this settee it is most likely full of insects
Possibly but for a few weeks every summer the sun dries it out and it is one of the great pleasures of my life to sit on it either reading or watching the express trains pass by
Let us burn it when the autumn arrives
Whatever for
Just bring a blanket out like the rest of us you will get just as brown
I not sit on it to achieve a tan
I sit here so that I may contemplate life
What was the name of the poet?
Hazel Hall
I have never heard of her
Not many people have
I had not heard of her before I purchased the book that I am now reading
What is the book called?
The Best Poems of 1924
Whatever made you buy it you do not write poetry
I do write poetry but I choose to keep it private
May I look at it?
Perhaps one day when I am more confident
What do you write about?
Everything
Do you write like Hazel Hall
No but I would like to have possessed a fraction of her talent
Did she write anything else
Most likely but I am only aware of the poems which can be found in this book
And this is where the haunting occurs
Haunting
Hazel died in 1924 and these poems are part of a larger number of poems which together are called Songs of Farewell
So she knew that she was dying
It appears so
There is a note at the base of the page
Read it to me
Hazel Hall died during the May month preceding the publication of these verses
Is that all
Yes
I wonder where she is now
She is most likely watching us
Do you believe there is anything else
Yes
So you think there is a lot more to life than two girls sitting on a threadbare settee near a railway life discussing the poems of a woman who passed away over ninety years ago
Yes I do believe in a God and an afterlife
I once had a friend at school who drowned whilst on holiday
We were quite close as you and I are good friends today
Here name was Sally
I missed her terribly at the time but the years have softened my sadness
However I still have a photograph of her
It was one of those silly teenage photographs taken on a day out
We were on a pier and were taking a selfie cheek to cheek with stupid grins on our faces
Two years later Sally died
I often look at that photograph and look at her eyes and wonder what mysteries she has witnessed of which I have no idea about
Is she comfortable in the afterlife
Has she met God and Jesus
I do not think that you meet God or even Jesus
You feel their presence
We were cheek to cheek in that photograph
Physically touching on an ordinary day on an ordinary pier
But now she is so distant from me
I cannot touch her anymore
Those are my thoughts when I look at the photograph
I have retained her likeness but nothing else
And as I have said I wonder what those eyes have witnessed
What does she know that I cannot begin to think about
Muriel touched Jackie’s wrist lightly and they both watched as an express train sped by at high speed
I often wonder if there are trains in Heaven too
So you have faith but are confused
Yes I suppose that you can put it that way
I never question my faith I feel it
I sense it
Even though the world constantly disappoints me it also is quite exhilarating
I am on a constant high
Small things very small things guide me
What do you mean?
Well you know that I told you that I found the poem in the vintage book I purchased
Yes
I was not going to go into the book shop as I found that it was rather expensive but I was wearing a light summer dress yesterday and as you are aware it rained at times and I did not want to get wet
Warm Summer Rain
Perhaps but I did not want to walk through the town looking like a girl who has fallen into a puddle
I had been in the shop for about five minutes when I took the opportunity to look out of the window
The rain was thinning but I decided to give it time
And then I knocked a book off of the shelf with my bag
It fell to the floor and opened on the page of Hazel’s poems
Out of curiosity I read her work and immediately purchased the book
How much was the book?
A fiver
Ouch
It was only when I was on the train home that I noticed that I had not only purchased a book but also a postcard which had been hidden between its pages
I had not noticed it at first
The postcard was from Portugal
It was from Fatima
Fatima
You know where the three children witnessed the visit of the Virgin Mary in 1917
I have heard of it
Rather like Lourdes
In its way yes
Well without sounding too happy-clappy this was an indication at least to me of things happening behind the scenes
Have you ever thought of coincidence
Yes I always consider the mathematics of chance but I felt like I was destined to read Hazel’s final poems
They are in my view a little bleak but also full of hope
As I came into the station I saw you spread out on this settee so full of life
Enjoying the summer sun
It did not rain here
I sat in the sun for most of the afternoon
But I could see your clouds in the distance
Poor you lucky me
Or poor me and lucky you
Enough of this chat let us go inside and refresh ourselves
One can discuss the future and the past but one must not forget the present
The vintage book of poems was left on the settee as the friends returned to the house
There was no breeze and its pages remained still in the hot sun
That was until a tiny ladybird landed on the book
It settled for a while until it was startled by the violence of a passing train and flew away
But the pages of the book were not affected by the disturbance of summer air
2018