Believe It True

That you have made my world a wondrous garden
Fair with your lips, and glad with your eyes of blue
That you have wakened life’s song of gladness
Believe it true, dear, believe it true.

That I have found within that wondrous garden
All passing hours made beautiful and true
That my heart’s prayer is, God may bless you forever
Believe it true, I love, love but you.

The sun is shining somewhere beyond the night I know
The birds are singing somewhere and life with love aglow
There’s hope and gladness waiting beyond this time of care
For you and me. the golden sun is shining, love somewhere.

August 1917


Notes by Beverly Stock

My friend found this poem recently in a “English Bonne Heure Du Jour” antique desk, which has been passed down through three generations of her family. Appraisers estimate the desk could be original from the age of the Bronte Sisters.

The desk has a drop leather bound writing section and two drawers above for ink and pens, etc., and under those a longer drawer with this love poem written on the base. The original punctuation and errors are reproduced above.

The poem is etched in ink into the reverse side of the pull-out drawer. The only way to see and read the poem is to remove the drawer and turn it over!

The Message like many others, written in stolen, war-time moments, emphasizes that the need to stay connected to the homes and the loved ones left behind was paramount. I’m certain soldiers often found clever ways to impart information. However, this powerful and lovely message, so intensely and covertly delivered, inspires my imagination!


Beverly Stock is a poet living in St. Louis, Missouri. Look for more of her work on her upcoming website:

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2 Responses

  1. Mal Beveridge

    Now that poem, errors and all is very impressive and it’s provenance worthy of a novel.

  2. C.B. Anderson

    My guess is that the desk is worth far more than the poem. Florid sentiment does not compare well with exquisitely executed cabinetry. However, I admire the spirit of the time and the expectation of potential loss that the poem conveys. I hope things worked out well for the frustrated lovers.


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