There you stood quietly with your little smile of serenity
before the arch of triumph
the turmoil you have been through
is by all means beyond my imagination
I felt the composure
I perceived the heart-brokened evasion
you appeared to be as cool as a cucumber
you told the story quick, as if you were managing to
rip off the bandaid as fast as you can
The tears streamed down my cheeks
words and emotion grasped me by the neck
"Sweet Julia, I am fine," you said
with your becoming British equanimity
Life is but a gamble
gamble of chance
win or lose
it is yet never easy to define
My darling golden girl
what happened to you
no one is obliged to claim
that they understand
but you chose to stand
with le petite upright and dauntless posture of yours
you march right on
There you stood
with the arch of triumph behind
already I see a reflection of the phenonmenal triumph
and "Bravo," i said, "Bravo!"
--Gracie, this is for you.--