I
The double-blossomed peach-trees with rosy bloom were gay
When grandpa rode beneath them upon his courting way,
From the white gate to the homestead they stretched in stately row,
And showered his path with petals, just sixty years ago.
His riding suit was spick and span, his jingling bridle rein,
Was polished to the limit, his top-boots shone again;
A mass of youthful vanity, from curly head to toe,
Was my darling gay young grandpa – just sixty years ago.
Upon the broad veranda, demure my grandma sat,
And hid her girlish blushes beneath her garden hat,
Her dainty flowing muslins enfolded her like snow;
Ah! Very sweet my grandma was, just sixty years ago.
With sweeping bow and fluttering heart he told his hopes and fears,
And grandma gently said him ‘Yea’, mid blushes, smiles and tears.
When the double-blossomed peach-trees with fruit were bending low,
Good Father Flynn united them – just sixty years ago.
II
There’s a sound of mirthful revel in the dear old home to-night,
Where the merry young folk frolic ‘neath the incandescent light,
Jazzing on the broad veranda, listening to the radio,
Knowing wonders quite undreamt of in the days of long ago.
On the vine-enclosed veranda, sits my grandpa in his chair,
And the flower-scented night winds stirs the white locks of his hair;
Grandma sits and smiles beside him, happy in the young folks glee,
Such a dainty dear old lady, ever young at heart is she.
And the harvest of their labours in the moonlight stretches wide
All the land they’ve won and toiled for as they struggled side by side,
In their brave old eyes no shadow from the griefs of gone-by years,
For their hearts beat high within them – dauntless breed of pioneers.
Hand in hand they sit together, while the angels smile above,
On their long unbroken record of faith, sacrifice and love;
From the double-blossomed peach trees come the petals falling slow,
Bringing sweet and fadeless memories of Sixty Years ago.
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I adore this poem, so full of love, endured through hardship and hard work. 60 years have passed and they still love each other. The reader is transported back to an earlier time when two young people fall in love and swiftly travel through the years to Alice's 'here and now'.
Her own grandparents didn’t leave Ireland and Alice was 2 when she moved to Australia, so I wonder who her ‘subjects’ were – perhaps her own parents.
It’s a delightful poem. Von -
Beautiful
This brought tears to my eyes. It is sensational, painfully beautiful, the period of that lost place and time comes alive, vividly, once more for all to see. An absolutly rare, rare jewel! Crist should be more widely known. -
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Alice Guerin Crist
Eusebius: I'm so pleased you have enjoyed this poem. It's one I added quite some time ago from one of Alice's books I found quite by accident (a happy accident) and enjoyed every single poem I transcribed. Her style is so simple and yet so evocotive of her time, her heritage and the life she lead in Australia. If you haven't yet, then please take the time to read her biography supplied with permission from her Grandaughter, it's worth the time.
Von
Oldpoetry
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Oh! This is ageless.
I think this must evoke memories in most of my contemporaries who were born in the '30s and '40s.
Who cares about the slight metrical flaws when this poet can bring back, so vividly, the silver hairs and wrinkles of our grandparents?
I hope I will be remembered with such love and affection in sixty years time.
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Lovely
Well, now I know for sure, Alice Guerin Crist has become one of my favorite old poets. She writes, as in this wonderful reminescent poem, in such a quiet natural way. I do love her style.
It brought back sweet memories of my own grandparents and the mutual love that shown between them.
A truly beautiful poem.
Dee
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