For Hattie

(In Memoriam, Patricia Haworth)

Your lap gave me the peace prayer ne’er provided,
     So, in that safest vale a tree sprang forth,
Which grew, both branch and root, as true love guided,
     And nestles wings that sing me my true worth.

From your dark eyes I drank the deep, bright nectar,
     That strengthens still, although the cup is dead,
And fastens down my roots in love’s rich hectare,
     That I may flower and fruit now summer’s fled. 

There is no gratitude to match the giving,
     No fair return for all I still receive,
Except to pass it on to those still living, 
    That they, like me, may celebrate and grieve. 

© Larry Haworth 2013