September 11, 2001
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
Ladies in Waiting....

Many young women waited for their loved ones who wore His Majesty's uniform in far away places, and many young men never returned. At the Battle of Waterloo, June 18, 1815, Wellington lost 15,000 men dead and wounded--and while this is a famous battle in British history, it was but one. British troops were sent all over the world at various times--to Egypt, India, Germany, Spain and Portugal, the West Indies, and North America--to name a few. One figure I have read gives the number of British casualties between 1804-1813 (from all their various campaigns) as totaling over 188,000.  This, of course, does not include the events of 1814-1815 and the Battle of Waterloo.
 

I wrote this poem for all those ladies who waited.

Laurie

Forget-Me-Not 

One hundred and one hundred years ago
How would my course be changed?
I wonder, as I look back
Through time's erasing rain....

My true love would have come to me
Earnest, sweet and warm
He might have made a gift to me
A lock of hair he'd shorn;
And for him a tendril of my own
Would I gladly part
And he would place mine in his coat
Above his faithful heart;

And I would place his in my gown 
Within a silken twist
Tied up with a ribbon and
Safeguarded with a kiss.
And if his coat were a gentleman's
His promise would soon be filled;
But if his coat were red and gilt
My love would grow tenfold.

For he would press into my hand
A sprig of Forget-Me-Not
And travel to a distant land
Where I might see him not.

And many a day and many a night
Would pass for he and me
Would I hear his brave sweet voice again,
And find it not a dream?
Would I feel his touch, his kiss and then
A babe soft on my knee?
Would these wonders come to pass
Will my love return to me?

If my love wore a gentleman's coat
I should dress in silk and jew'ry fine
But if my love wore a coat of red
A treasure would I hold inside.
And God willing my beloved would return
And banish my dreadsome fears
But if he should not, I would ever bear
Forget-Me-Not through the years.

One hundred and one hundred years ago
How would my course be changed?
I wonder, as I look back
Through time's erasing rain....

L. Bishop © 2003

The illustration of the lady and child shows a fashion of mourning dress from an edition of Ackerman's Repository.