Title Cards

Jack would play the organ

At the local Odeon

Until the talkies came.

Could Gwyneth love him the same

As when in matinees

Crisply shadowed rays

Of Hollywood had been

On the smoke and on a screen

Like linen on the bed

Where nothing at all was said,

And they moved in a black and white night

Of flickerings from streetlight?

Oh, how she’d loved that magic,

And him there making music!