About the poet
Charles Causley (1917-2003) was born and brought up in Launceston, Cornwall and lived there for...
When we moved to Miller's End,
Every afternoon at four
A thin shadow of a shade
Quavered through the garden-door.
Dressed in black from top to toe
And a veil about her head
To us all it seemed as though
She came walking from the dead.
With a basket on her arm
Through the hedge-gap she would pass,
Never a mark that we could spy
On the flagstones or the grass.
When we told the garden-boy
How we saw the phantom glide,
With a grin his face was bright
As the pool he stood beside.
'That's no ghost-walk,' Billy said,
'Nor a ghost you fear to stop -
Only old Miss Wickerby
On a short cut to the shop.'
So next day we lay in wait,
Passed a civil time of day,
Said how pleased we were she came
Daily down our garden-way.
Suddenly her cheek it paled,
Turned, as quick, from ice to flame.
'Tell me,' said Miss Wickerby
'Who spoke of me, and my name?'
'Bill the garden-boy,'
Said, 'Of course, you could not know
How he drowned - that very pool -
A frozen winter - long ago.'
from Collected Poems 1951-2000 (Picador, 2000), copyright © Estate of Charles Causley 2000, used by permission of David Higham Associates.
Charles Causley Reading from his poems (The poems on this tracklist are not currently available to download. You can purchase the full CD via the link below.)