The Spike or Victoria College Review 1942
For a Girl Comrade
For a Girl Comrade
Here is no lending; no return due
For the last losing or the greatest gift.
Within this Convent, clouded by decree,
You may not sigh or sue for what you left.
Brain chiselled, finely fashioned in the round
By the keen edge of a thousand wills,
Ready for ambush, swift to hear the sound
Of living laughter in the mellow walls.
Within this Convent, let the quiet nun
Lead you and leave you, unresisting now,
Cut off your hair, sing farewell to the sun,
And take the last unalterable vow.
Ronald L. Meek