I recently came across a book of poetry written by my mother when she was a girl. The following was written in 1934 when she was eighteen to my father, Henry Cecil.
Reconstruction
Last night I dreamed a star from the blue
Fell to earth shattered. And you
Out of the dirt, picked each tiny part
And held them pressed against your heart.
And they were mended and became whole.
There in your hands, you held a living soul.
But this is no dream, I know it’s true;
The earth was earth and the sky was sky;
And you were you;
And the star was I.
If there any poets amongst the Burnetts, I would be very pleased to consider them for the Banner. Poems of earlier generations would be equally welcome.
James C. A. Burnett of Leys