Poem Hunter
Poems
Memory
(18 May 1890 – 22 January 1964 / Brisbane)

Memory

Late, late last night, when the whole world slept,
Along to the garden of dreams I crept.
And I pulled the bell of an old, old house
Where the moon dipped down like a little white mouse.
I tapped the door and I tossed my head:
"Are you in, little girl? Are you in?" I said.
And while I waited and shook with cold
Through the door tripped me---just eight years old.
I looked so sweet with my pigtails down,
Tied up with a ribbon of dusky brown,
With a dimpled chin full of childish charme,
And my old black dolly asleep in my arms.
I sat me down when I saw myself,
And I told little tales of a moonland elf.
I laughed and sang as I used to do
When the world was ruled by Little Boy Blue.
Then I danced with a toss and a twirl
And said: "Now have you been a good, good girl?
Have you had much spanking since you were Me?
And does it feel fine to be twenty-three?"
I kissed me then, and I said farewell,
For I've earned more spanks than I dared to tell,
And Eight must never see Twenty-three
As she peeps through the door of Memory.

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Comments (2)

I was in fifth class at Bankstown Primary School with a teacher named Miss Dyer. You must learn Australian poetry, its your best way to learn from someone who wrote this for you to learn. Miss Dyer really infected our class with this poetr y, it seems like yesterday we were introduced to it. Thank you for reminding me of my love of poetry, learned so long ago. Elizabeth W. I'm in my eighties now
My mother told me this poem. She knew it as a child. I love it, as do my children.