Sonnet 3

The two key years I spent with your kind Dad,
Before I went to sojourn in Trieste,
Provided memories both joyful and sad:
Of all the men I’ve known he was the best.
And how appropriate that he should die
Trying to save a drowning scruffy boy:
A pauper with whom he had no social tie –
The sort of kid who’d me those days annoy.
Although he wasn’t religious formally,
He often spoke of the immortal Soul;
Needless to say, he’d then add jokingly
Something like “Oh! my shoe has sprung a hole”.
++In short, sweet Milly, your “Papli” was the one
++Who taught me how to temper graveness with fun.


23 March 2019