Give Me Your Songs, Flowers, and Laughter Now
Eleanor Alexander’s “Now” reminds us that love delayed is love diminished—our laughter, kindness, and affection matter most in this very moment.
Now
Eleanor Alexander
For me, my friend, no grave-side vigil keep
With tears that memory and remorse might fill;
Give me your tenderest laughter earth-bound still,
And when I die you shall not want to weep.
No epitaph for me with virtues deep
Punctured in marble pitiless and chill:
But when play time is over, if you will,
The songs that soothe beloved babes to sleep.
No lenten lilies on my breast and brow
Be laid when I am silent; roses red,
And golden roses bring me here instead,
That if you love or bear me I may know;
I may not know, nor care, when I am dead:
Give me your songs, and flowers, and laughter now.
Reflection
Eleanor Alexander’s “Now” offers a tender yet profound plea to live—and love—fully in the present. The speaker asks not for mourning or marble epitaphs but for laughter, music, and roses while life still stirs within them. It’s a reminder that affection postponed until after death misses its purpose. True love is not carved in stone; it’s expressed in smiles, small kindnesses, and shared joy.
The poem invites us to reconsider how we show appreciation for others. Why wait until it’s too late to speak warmth, to sing a song, or to bring a flower? In celebrating others now, we honor not just their lives—but our own capacity to love deeply and without delay.
Question for Readers:
When was the last time you told someone how much they mean to you—not in memory, but in the beautiful, breathing present?