Fay Slimm - Ursula's Fantasy.

Her fingers stretched out to touch his dark hair.
His boyish frame, covered as he slept there.
He lay in the bed she had used when a lass.
His ankle now healed - but when would this pass?

This longing for love which surged through her soul.
She had, for so long, been living alone.
Her sweetheart had gone in the great World War.
Those years ago, she had known love before.

She fancied he looked like her lost young man,
And slowly her mind had hatched a bold plan.
She would not report him washed up on shore.
Life need not be again as it was before.

Her white hair she could dye, and buy new clothes,
Put on some lipstick, paint fingers and toes.
These fantasies raged in her head at night.
He would come to love her if she looked right.

But, seeing him there, in his flush of youth,
Her eyes swam with tears as she faced the truth.
So far was the distance between their birth.
Her impossible dream had no real worth.

Except to imagine what might have been
If he had been lonely, and she, seventeen.

Fay Slimm

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