  | Helen Eccles Helen is a retired librarian. She has one husband, two children and a Dachshund dog. Retirement has given Helen more time to walk her dog, which shows no more enthusiasm for this activity than she does. Helen also has more time for reading, writing, and visiting gardens. She enjoys being a member of a writing group and reading her work to various clubs and societies. She was runner-up in the Spring artsextra short story competition with her story The Man Who Looked Like Dylan Thomas. |
Memory, a Six Letter Word by Helen Eccles |
Heavy tome
On a winter afternoon.
An old woman smiles.
Memory
The word leaps out
With a glad shout.
Metamorphoses.
Hair thin, white,
Now glossy
Tendrils maddening
Seeking fingers.
And skin pendulous in folds
Melts to enchanting fairy features.
Original crossword trawl
Forgotten.
The galloping major,
Grunting, more like.
The laughing Hussar,
Who only could -
with his sword nearby.
Memory grows dim,
But surely one,
A horse guard
No doubt,
Kept his boots on
For sudden flight.
And little Habeeb
Pleasured many a memsahib
‘ Our secret,’ he said.
They hoped it was true.
Then love came.
Remember?
The fallen one,
Wild and wanton
Lost in war’s mists.
Then,
No need to pretend,
Love’s cry
A truth.
Memories stir,
Move like rusty cogs
In the engine
Of the Daimler
Laid up in bricks.
A smile again,
A moment’s flame.
The head sinks
And sleeps.
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