I liked your gift; it made me smile
Leading down ancient mile of sea and sand whipped by Easterly
Salty tang, darkening skies, beer glass foamy fresh-sipped tide
Youthful faces even younger minds; the rush of days so heady
Cycling fast lest staff berate, cups of tea, plated cake
Whispering questions, querying hands
Expectations, work, demands
Good days, bad days, exam angst faces
Three-tiered system, graded places
Illusions, confusions, naivety
Trusting, p’haps thrusting sincerity
Mistakes, dead-line-dates, lying-a-wakes
Concentration, desolation, earnest expectation
Those who taught us and those who sought us
Studying when grants existed, a privileged time for those enlisted
Backgrounds variety absent of parental authority
Thrown together in continuous proximity
Gatherings and smatterings of utter simplicity
The quiet of a summer’s dawn, walking in finery t’wards sun filled morn
Memories all this winter’s night
Like brittle texts read by candlelight
Breathe on me your welcome sight
Yes; I liked your gift
I like your gift
Shirley Martin’s poem reflects on the times she spent at her Alma Mater, St. Andrews, back in the 1980's after coming across an old gift given during a second year field trip.
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