The journey of a GI Bride

The journey of a GI bride

I left the sulphur steelworks’ rain
The rolling hills, with Viking names
The pea-green river sluiced to sea,
The town, the street and part of me.

Landed. Stamped. Deloused. Unmet.
I travelled west.

Arrested by the sea,
I made my home by palm and peach,
Saw deserts flower and Joshua’s tree,
Humming birds and guns. I stayed.

No headstone marked my firstborns’ plot.
On secret days,
I whispered tales of kin and kith,
Of back to backs and fires and frost,
Of Guy Fawkes Night and conker trees,
Of fog and sleet and things I’d lost.

Each morning, now, I watch the sun
Rise over the faulted mountain peak
And bleed its westward race, from them to me.
I pray for words.

I’ve travelled far and yet I find
The longest journey that I make,
Is from the empty mailbox… home.


About Linda Nicklin

Live in the East Midlands with two cats and a dog. Occupational Therapist and serial course taker. Trying to find my voice through song, creative writing and this week block printing. Next week who knows...
This entry was posted in Poems. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to The journey of a GI Bride

  1. jezmez23 says:

    Love the styling, Linda. Judging by the poetry, you are my kind of golfer.


  2. Lib C says:

    I like the GI Bride, but the ending moves me to tears. I thought that only someone who had emigrated could know about the longest journey, but you have captured it perfectly. It is a beautiful poem. Thank you.


  3. rixyrufusr says:

    a beautiful poem. nice allusions, sweet pace.


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