Dancing Dust

Poems by Mollie Caird (1922-2000)

The summer
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Let's not deceive ourselves: love changes fast
As all things change, and yet love's not time's fool.
For time is but an instrument and tool
For love's own fashioning.  The spring is past,
When our ecstatic sudden vows were cast
Like pebbles to set dancing the still pool
Of love-reflecting joy, glad as the cool
Willows' joy for April come at last.
What if rough fingers rub the fairy-light
Bloom from the fruit?  It is the sweeter grown.
And was the curling bud so fair a sight?
The rose is fairer, open and full blown.
Dear love, we'll not regret the passing spring,
Now summer is become so rich a thing.


The manuscript of this poem is headed with this partial quotation from John Donne's 'The Anniversary':

"Only our love hath no decay
This, no tomorrow hath, nor yesterday;
Running, it never runs from us away..."

April 1944