Sunday 1 November 2020

Loveable Rogue

 Dear Reader,





                                                   

     

                                                                              The Silk Road


Major Mick Stanley whom I wrote about last week, is in the news again with his amazing challenge of rowing his homemade boat along the Chichester Canal for 100 miles.  He has now raised £22,500 for St. Wilfred's hospice, Bosham, and is currently halfway through the adventure.

                                                                                  *

In my long and varied life I have met many different people, but none who have stuck out more than the 'loveable rogue'.  I met him everywhere: at the Samaritan Centre, as a Magistrate or just striking up a conversation with him in cafes or bars.  This man is a charmer, he jokes, flirts, tells good stories usually about places in exotic parts of the world.  This week's poem is about him, I hope you enjoy it,  and will be able to spot him if you talk to him one day, somewhere.

                                                                                  *

From Dorothy Wordsworth, November 4th 1800, in Westmorland

'William went to the Tarn, afterwards to the top of Seat Sandal. H was obliged to lie down in the tremendous wind.  The snow blew from Helvellyn horizontally like smoke - the spray of the unseen waterfall like smoke.'


From Thomas Hardy, November 4th 1873, in Dorset

'It is raining in torrents.  The light is greenish and unnatural, objects being seen as through water. A roar of rain in the plantation, and a rush near at hand, yet not a breath of wind.   A silver finger hangs from the eaves of the house to the ground.  A flash and then thunder.'


                                                                                   *

 

Loveable Rogue

 

 

Jeans jacket, black trousers

long curly black hair

an impish smile

sparkling white teeth.

 

A world traveller

worked in a kibbutz

surfed in Australia

sold jewellery in India,

Nepal and Afghanistan.

 

He had a finger in many pies,

he said, done many deals,

made friends, made enemies

walked the Silk Road.

 

The ladies loved him

he twinkled at them

made jokes

got on with their dogs.

 

He told good stories

wore silver rings

had a rose tattoo

on his arm, a cross on his leg.

 

This loveable rogue

was charming,

uninterested in the truth

and wandered through life

conscience free.

*

 

 

 

With best wishes, Patricia.

 

 

 




No comments:

Post a Comment