Stone

                                                                                              Guernsey

Dear Reader,

The reason I couldn't write the blog last Sunday was because I was having a holiday in Guernsey.  We were lucky with the weather.  The sun shone for five days which made our many bus journeys and sight seeing interesting and fun.  Gosh, what a story Guernsey has to tell.  We went to five museums, all of which were so beautifully done, with abundant military costumes on models and where appropriate, authentic weapons from the occupation. The German Occupation museum was most interesting - what a terrible time the Guernsey people must have had when occupied.  One poster I particularly noticed said ' If you are found outside after the curfew, you will be shot'.  And everything seemed so dirty and grim.

We don't know we are born today, do we?  All the quarrelling about Brexit seems so puerile, so pathetic.

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Stone 

I wrapped the stone in linen cloth,
the picnic I wrapped in plastic bags.
We made for the river the stone and I.
My arm ached with the weight.

We sat on the bank,
watched the river run.

I fed myself tomato sandwiches,
shortbread, spring water.
The stone was still and silent.
I fed it words.

Standing up I said:"Stone
you have been my life companion.
My fetter, me, chained to you.
Hurling you into the river
will be my resurrection".

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With very best wishes, Patricia