The Red Coat by Myra Morris

| No TrackBacks
Beside the heap of smouldering fire
   The poor old woman sits --
Old Madeleine with high-veined hands
   And hardly any wits.

Her skirt drags down a rusty-green,
   Her boots are torn and spread,
But over her thin shoulder-blades
   There hangs a coat of red.

A coat that takes the light and flings
   It back derisively --
A mocking note that challenges
   Old age and penury!

And color-blind no longer I
   See poor old Madeleine,
I only vision splendid things,
   Old passions that have been!

Old pumps and gallantries of youth
   Go by; her voice is drowned
In laughter like a waterfall,
   In bursts of marching sound!

Gay ribbons wave from crowded walls,
   Tap-tap go dancing shoon;
A stooping, long-faced fiddler plays
   Beneath a harvest moon.

So gay the coat of Madeleine
   Around her shoulders flung,
I know that, though her eyes are old,
   Her heart is young, so young!

First published in The Bulletin, 25 December 1929

Author reference sites: AustlitAustralian Dictionary of Biography

See also.

No TrackBacks

TrackBack URL: http://www.middlemiss.org/cgi-bin/movabletype/mt-tb.cgi/2885

About this Entry

This page contains a single entry by Perry Middlemiss published on December 25, 2014 8:33 AM.

Christmas Eve at Christmas Hills by Kathleen Dalziel was the previous entry in this blog.

Green Parrots by Mabel Forrest is the next entry in this blog.

Find recent content on the main index or look in the archives to find all content.

Categories

Powered by Movable Type 4.23-en