COVENTRY ROAD
Secretly
today I buried her
again -at last.
Just her china doll, it seemed to hold
her once held love.
Mary's toys; my little treats accused.
And I have carried to each new house
one to plant my hidden love.
Perhaps I have built her
in every home.
When I am earth you may find her
china doll under your floor.
Forgive the father
who hid his love
and grew old.
By Martin Hayes
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