Anne Alone

All alone
You came to the grounds of Granard’s Church.
Frightened; forsaken,
What could be worse?
Oh Anne, your were but a child and not much more
When the pangs of labour,
All alone, you had to endure.
Your labour bed was a sheet of glass,
Your midwifes were the clouds that passed.
Anne, your life was to end in sorrow,
For your, there were no bright tomorrow.
Those closed doors and twitching curtains,
Nuns and priest that turned the other way.
We will never know for certain,
The true story of your final day

(R.I.P. Anne)

by Mai Venn

Other poems of VENN (150)

Comments (4)

When the pangs of labour, All alone, you had to endure. Your labour bed was a sheet of glass, Your midwifes were the clouds that passed. we shall never know about your true sufferings......... there are so many like this who suffer and die........ and no one notices their struggle.. this uncaring world......... than k u for bringing this point out into the notice of poets........ tha nk u dear poet. tony
Love this poem
I remember when this true story happened it was a terrible tragedy, you have written it with such tenderness! Beautiful write!
Its a sad story but good use of imagery to depict the behaviour of the past. good piece of work.