I donít want you to be
Getting the girls in trouble,
Granny said, giving Colin
The steady gaze, looking
Behind his eyes, then looking
The other way said, unlike her
Daughter next door, well gone
She is, and not knowing the
Father of the lump neither, nor
Cares no doubt, Granny added,
Tut tutting, shaking her head.
And the mother has no shame
To be having a daughter carrying
A child out of wedlock and Father
Dominicís been there telling them
The errors of the ways and trying
To get them to the Sunday mass
And confessional box without
Much luck I might add and heís
No push over as you may well
Know young Colin him being
The taskmaster at school and all.
Granny paused and pushed her
White hair from her greyblue eyes.
Be a good boy and donít be causing
Your gran any shame or need to be
Boxing your ears, Granny stated,
Her eyes focussed on Colin, taking
In his pale complexion, the new suit,
The handkerchief in the top pocket,
The shirt and tie. No, Gran, Iíll not.
Iíve had no dealings with the girls,
Colin uttered shyly, keeping the name
And vision of Jenny from lips and mind.
Thatís good, Granny said, maybe make
A priest of you yet, and she laughed
Softly, her laughter floating about
Their ears like a big butterfly, then
It was gone, the sound of laughter,
Up into the bright blue afternoon sky.