A Little Sense

My Cottage Garden

watching the BBC Miniseries Pride and Predjudice for the upteenth time this past week brought this older poem to mind.

A Little Sense

I welcome Miss Austen inside my cottage door.
Her latest novel clutched within her gloved hands.

In greeting we bow our acknowledgment, respect for one another.
We sit comfortably together in the sun-filled front parlor.

I have no servants, no country manor.
I fetch the pot of tea and scones myself.
We discuss the weather, comment on the differences
England to middle-America,
early nineteenth to late twentieth centuries.

We deplore the general lack of common manners,
the change in courtship rituals, the want of romance,
genteel relationships, the scandals of the British royalty.
We remark on a need for the resurgence of the role
of chaperones, the upholding of chastity,
the praise of virtue, truth, integrity.

We discuss her re-discovered popularity.
Her novels reproduced in films and mini-series.
The hope of a return not of fashions, but propriety.
The steadfast heroine, the gallant, stalwart hero.
The courage to believe, to hope in love’s commitment
Love’s ultimate victory and fulfillment
in all purity through life’s duress.

c.Darlene Moore Berg


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