“Spring has come a little late,”
The vicar said to me
As over sandwiches and cake
We sipped our cups of tea
“A little late……yes,” I replied
Glancing through the trees
Whose buds were still so tightly closed
But waving in the breeze.
“Spring is time to start anew,”
The vicar said to me,
As from the wooden garden seat
He bent upon his knee
“To start anew?” I questioned him
My gaze was far away
Upon an island I had known
And thought of every day.
“Do you recall one Springtime”
The vicar said to me,
“When you were only twenty
And I was twenty-three?”
He gazed again into my eyes
His hair once thick, now thin
And tufting round a balding head.
He bit his lip and said,
“We met upon that island
And vowed to stay so true,
But then……I took up the Church
And that put paid to you! “
I quietly reflected
On all that he had said
And there he was, still kneeling,
I could have touched his head….
“Many years have passed,” I said,
My face all hot and flushed
As I held up the tea-pot
And out the hot tea gushed!
I looked through the branches high above,
His arm was round my waist.
I heard him whisper, Oh my love
How pure you are…..and chaste!
“Yes, Spring has come a little late,” I said.
Then looking straight past me
He saw a child on the gate,
Another up the tree.
“I have found Spring far too late,”
The vicar said to me,
As smiling he stood up again
And thanked me for the tea……..
Pat Stubbs