'The Greatest' by William Forde
The very first time I met my wife Sheila, it was in Haworth one Wednesday afternoon. A few hours later after lunch at Gascoignes on Main Street, we parted, not knowing if we would meet again.
Sheila, though born in England to a mother and father from Ceylon and Macaw had lived in Singapore for most of her developing years.
As Sheila and I parted that afternoon, and I walked away, I imagined her whispering to me, "Look back, Bill. Look back!" Later that evening I wrote a poem about a love that was never to come to fruition.
This is a poem about a love that was never to be. At their first meeting, the man knew that he’d found the woman that he loved and could be with forever, but the woman who was a widow, was too frightened to let herself love again; too frightened to risk the loss were she ever to allow herself to give her heart and unqualified love to another. As they part, he hopes that she will look round and come back to him, but alas she doesn’t.
She knows that if the thought to turn comes into her head, she will not be able to prevent her head from turning. She will not have the resolve to resist his love and prevent her feet from running back into his arms. So fearful of turning back she lost him from her life on that fateful day and has bitterly regretted her failure to seize love ever since. Today she clasps tightly the only memory she now has of her lost love; a photograph of his image which he gave her that day and one which she subsequently had framed and ritually gazes upon every night, and will gaze upon nightly until the day she dies. Although a poor substitute, the framed photograph is nevertheless the only comfort she has to remind her of the love she could have had, but let pass by on Main Street, Haworth.
Sheila, though born in England to a mother and father from Ceylon and Macaw had lived in Singapore for most of her developing years.
As Sheila and I parted that afternoon, and I walked away, I imagined her whispering to me, "Look back, Bill. Look back!" Later that evening I wrote a poem about a love that was never to come to fruition.
This is a poem about a love that was never to be. At their first meeting, the man knew that he’d found the woman that he loved and could be with forever, but the woman who was a widow, was too frightened to let herself love again; too frightened to risk the loss were she ever to allow herself to give her heart and unqualified love to another. As they part, he hopes that she will look round and come back to him, but alas she doesn’t.
She knows that if the thought to turn comes into her head, she will not be able to prevent her head from turning. She will not have the resolve to resist his love and prevent her feet from running back into his arms. So fearful of turning back she lost him from her life on that fateful day and has bitterly regretted her failure to seize love ever since. Today she clasps tightly the only memory she now has of her lost love; a photograph of his image which he gave her that day and one which she subsequently had framed and ritually gazes upon every night, and will gaze upon nightly until the day she dies. Although a poor substitute, the framed photograph is nevertheless the only comfort she has to remind her of the love she could have had, but let pass by on Main Street, Haworth.
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‘The Greatest’
The greatest words I never heard were whispered down the wind. On one dark sombre Wednesday day, my life came to an end. ‘Come back’ you whispered silently as I did walk away, Half- broken, shattered, disillusioned; melted heart at play. The greatest thrill I never knew was just around the bend. Faint- hearted lover look at me, I’ll be much more than thy friend. Why did you not profess your love, you can’t have understood, Why did you cruelly smash my dreams when all I thought was good? The greatest love of all my life forever shall be thee. The biggest fool that ever lived thou knowest to be me. The softest touch I never felt came from your warm embrace, You kissed my image tenderly, you warmed my glassy face. Your lips brushed mine so sweetly, though I never felt a thing Your tears of loss ran down my cheeks and rested there within. Trapped forever ‘neath the glass which captured this wry smile, Unknown to me you swore your love and sighed alone awhile. Had you but spoken sooner, it would have been okay, The love that I expressed to you would never fade away. Had you believed the best in me, if only you had said, Together we would be right now, forevermore instead. Alone, we live our destiny, until the day we die, We’ll stay apart, no more to kiss beneath the lover’s sky. Until the green sod binds us close, once more beneath the ground We’ll kiss; we’ll touch, and say so much, no more shall we need sound. Copyright William Forde, March, 2012 (Amended and reviewed: April, 2018). |
