Jane In Love 1961 Poem by Terry Collett

I woke to the sound
of birdsong and cows
mooing from the farm.
I lay in bed thinking

of Benedict. I had
never thought about
a boy before; never
had this feeling inside,

never had my mind
so muddled up
like a puddle in a
storm. Downstairs

mother prepared
breakfast. Father
was in his study
preparing his long

sermon for Sunday.
I used to be up and
dressed, out in the
early morning sun,

watching butterflies
in flight. But I lay
in bed as if it was
night, staring at

the wooden cross
on the white wall.
I wanted to get up,
but I felt as if I'd

not slept at all.