The memory comes suddenly, but is always there
Hidden unseen you're unaware
Of its bitter grief-provoking presence
The memory hits unbidden as a shock
Kindled by a favourite hymn
Sitting in church the memory hurts
The strains of Handel rub the wound.
The music, ageless, like a rock
Stands secure, a recreated era
Like the stain glass window, placed in memory
Of a long deceased man.
The memory lives on unchanged
Ideas once flexible now are fixed
For once was life and breath
Is only now a memory.
Try here for the
music if you want to hear some (an excerpt from Handel's Messiah). Sarah Jane Davies
December 1980
