Poem to Margaret

Child of light
skipping down the eggshell path
of your butterfly years
yellow tendrils
skying wild behind you
swept back by your delight
a flower about to open
about to gladden the world
petal by milky petal
gather me a daisy chain
made from your joy
to wear in my winter
when the glow of now
pales to the far scent
of fragile frost
Margaret of the marigold ways
running across deep October fields
drowning me in the pollen
of your madcap years
making pain seem solace
all child and sudden wisdom
amazing me.

By Christy Brown (“My Left Foot” fame: He had cerebral palsy and the only part of his body he had control over was his left foot, which he used to write with!)

I Remember

I remember when we went to a party, I had too much to drink and thought you’d be embarrassed and shout at me but you didn’t.

I remember the time we went out and I danced with your best friend all night, I thought you’d be jealous and leave me forever but you didn’t.

Or the time I promised you your favourite meal but forgot, I thought you’d be angry and ignore me all night but you didn’t.

Then you were called up to fight in Vietnam, I was going to devote all my time to you and give you all my love when you returned – but you didn’t.

It Couldn’t Be Done

Somebody said that it couldn’t be done

But he with a chuckle replied

That “maybe it couldn’t,” but he would be one

Who wouldn’t say so till he’d tried.

So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin

On his face. If he worried he hid it.

He started to sing as he tackled the thing

That couldn’t be done, and he did it!


Somebody scoffed: “Oh, you’ll never do that;

At least no one ever has done it;”

But he took off his coat and he took off his hat

And the first thing we knew he’d begun it.

With a lift of his chin and a bit of a grin,

Without any doubting or quiddit,

He started to sing as he tackled the thing

That couldn’t be done, and he did it.


 There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,

There are thousands to prophesy failure,

There are thousands to point out to you one by one,

The dangers that wait to assail you.

But just buckle in with a bit of a grin,

Just take off your coat and go to it;

Just start in to sing as you tackle the thing

That “cannot be done,” and you’ll do it.


by Edgar Guest