[Editor: This poem by Dorothea Mackellar was published in The Sydney Morning Herald (Sydney, NSW), 7 January 1928.]
Fractures.
When I was very little
I heard the grown-ups say
Old Reuben’s leg was broken —
It filled me with dismay,
For when I broke my doll’s leg
The piece came clean away.
So two or three months later
I was surprised and glad
To see old Reuben stumping
The yard as if he had
Two legs the same as ever —
It couldn’t be so bad.
“Please, is your new leg wooden?”
“No, bless your heart! Tho’ old,
It mended neat as ninepence,
It’s mostly good as gold,
But halts me on steep pinches,
And aches me in the cold.”
When I was rather taller,
I thought a broken heart
Was one that beat no longer;
For any joy or smart;
But like a cold, still, pebble
Lay in Grief’s pool apart.
But now my heart is mended,
I feel it stirring still;
It aches in stormy weather,
It halts me on the hill;
But it will last my daytime
For friends, and books, and playtime —
At least I think it will.
DOROTHEA MACKELLAR.
Source:
The Sydney Morning Herald (Sydney, NSW), 7 January 1928, p. 11
Also published in:
The Cairns Post (Cairns, Qld.), 10 March 1928, p. 10
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