«Brown Studies» — Poems by G. P. Brown, Punta Arenas, Chile, 1940
 

Site

Home Background

The Book

Publisher's Acknowledgment Author's Foreword

Contents

Could I forget? The Cross What Profit a Man? May 1940 June 1940 Hyde Park Orators Are You Doing Your Bit? Home The Haven of Love Afterglow The Six Dolls Forget-me-not My Little Ship Mother's Day The Easy Way Mother Flea The Stockings' Lament The Gamble Who Was It? A Mother's Right Teach me to be Humble

Contact

Duncan Campbell

---

F O R G E T - M E - N O T

Do you recall a summer's day, a little
winding brook,
And how we wandered far away, to take a
last fond look
At all those little treasured spots, which we then
claimed as ours,
And dreaming as we went along - we whispered
to the flowers?

Do you recall the violets, and all the poppies red,
How all the flowers nodded "Yes!", to all the
things we said,
And so that all we felt that day might never
be forgot
We gave to each a tiny flower - a sweet
Forget-me-not?

We promised we would keep them fresh, through-
out the passing years,
And water them with tender thoughts, and
memories silent tears,
Until the day we both would meet, join hands
on that dear spot,
And show to each our tiny flower - the sweet
Forget-me-not.

So many summers now have passed since we
both wandered there,
Each year I've waited by that brook, and knelt
in silent prayer;
To little flowers sweet and fresh, as that day
in September,
I've whispered softly all my thoughts - that
someday you'd remember.

A love like ours can never die, or ever fade
away,
The flowers tell me you will come - together
we will stray,
Down by the little winding brook, and there in
sheltered spot,
Someday we'll meet and give to each - a sweet
Forget-me-not.