This post relates to the first of several I've written over the summer inspired by current news topics.
Weymouth Harbour Bridge
The inspiration was the release of the film Dunkirk and it's link to Weymouth. It brought to mind a story my cousin Keith told me about his Mum.
Keith messaged me recently. He'd been in Dublin staying with his friend Padriac. He said, "I told him the story of my Mum's golden rose necklace from the Dunkirk evacuation. He wrote this poem for me after seeing a picture of it and I think it's wonderful!"
Thanks for sharing your story Keith and Mum, Betty. And thanks to Padraic for writing and sharing your poem:
A French Rose for an English Girl
He kissed the ground
he kissed the air.
He waved to strangers on the shore
there greeting him, as he arrived
in Weymouth from Dunkirk.
The French arrived without their boots
from bloody fields in Normandy,
grateful to be saved
from death, by tiny boats.
My mother stood above the rail
and saw survivors climb to land
from baby ships that risked their lives,
to pluck the French from German hands.
But a girl of fourteen years
she still recalls as if last week,
the soldier who threw this gift
a bracelet that she holds today.
A dainty silver rose
his precious chain - who knows?
To an English girl in a Weymouth crowd
a Dorset rose today.
Why do we kill those we do not know?
Why to stranger do we throw
our dearest charm in life? -
To the young English girl who
became my father's wife.
