It blew into my garden,
A breeze soft and mild;
It chased away the chill
Of a winter wild;
And the pale faced snowdrops
Looked up and smiled.

On the bleak hill of Age
I was walking alone
When a tender recollection
From boyhood flown
Met me: – the bleakness
Far away was blown.

A kindly mem’ry travels
A long long road –
A lift, a gift, or a smile bestowed.
Kindness is the key
To joy’s abode.

MICHAEL MULLIN, ‘The Bard of Foremass’,
Foremass Lower, Sixmilecross, Co. Tyrone.
Sent 17 Feb ‘47