MAUD & MARIAN

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It was a thunderclap that woke them

woven as they were golden

They had slept that way for hours

carried home honey from the bees

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They first met in ’54 when what they did

was way below the law

Marian always the clever one

& Maud who wore the shawl

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They both drank bourbon from

a tall tin cup; an amphora

A crystal chalice or a beaker

but when they held hands it was cleaner

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Not many people had said

they were made for each other

then Marianne bought pansies

Maud wept & then became her lover

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Souls twine like rope, useful and strong

The head of a horse stands up

as proud as the day is long

these two wore vivid silk sarongs

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And hiding in the fisher hut

her Polish father’s sweet garret

they spoke for hours of love and pain

till Maud guessed the amber stain

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Their ’78 became a by-word flame

the cultured opulence of their modern day

glitter gave way to the raw colours of earth

so they made a kind of docu-fillum’

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This day, today – people stop & listen

when their love was its strongest

opinion divided by hatreds engine driven

love’s purple flower was too well hidden

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People’s views change, glow & glisten

In the dockyard, schoolyard or the mission

Mauds temper finally broke the bowl & strew

diamonds, soft lilies & golden fishes

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So lovely, the hands of Marian

Who could’ve sat in forest wolds, in felt hat

Strumming words, loving birds, telling Maud

No other matter matters, but Love.

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a ballad written over many months byedenbraycompleted24.09.2017