Requiem For Mum

In memory of Laurel May Knoll - nee Jäckel 1927-1990


The copper-beach leaves waste
unraked since Autumn,
The rock-doves have flown
the aviary-heart;
Ground-orchids are bulldozed
in remnant bush,
No speckled thrushes
come this Spring to nest.

But May will resurrect wildflowers
for eastern Spring in old Europe,
Whence her pioneer-avowing,
truth-earthing forebears came;
And Laurel: pastors conceived her
in Stoic-conquest at birth,
And eight down-to-earth offspring
answer her High-hand the Rub.

Her distinction was to
rue false Religion,
Her pre-eminence was
to disdain hype;
She was given no Honours
but garden honour,
She chose to die
God's steadfast laureate.


199o-1991 © Wayne David Knoll

Mum planted a garden of love in the middle of a gross garden of money. She was at large as a collector of plants, and after she died her loved plants saved the money garden from grossing into its loss. She was a racehorse of distances too weighted with handicaps. She fought for us all to be faithful in faith freed from a great Emasculation, the twentieth century littleness of spirit. Hers was a BYO martyrdom. She lived breaking over borders, with character larger than life.