Forever Love

 Dear Reader,

                                                                       Autumn Gear

I haven't quite got to grips with this weather.  I thought it was supposed to be autumnal now with the leaves starting to fall and cold or frosty nights starting to make themselves known.  But no such thing has happened.  I was so hot in bed two nights ago I threw off the blanket and just had one sheet over me.  Then I went out to lunch with two of my grandchildren on Friday and was too hot in a cardigan and jacket. 

So I assume all this warm air is the result of global warming.  Gosh what are we all to do with global warming throughout the planet?  Obviously everyone is worried about its consequences and I often wonder how it will all end as I am sure many people do. At 83 I haven't too long to worry about it but I do worry for my children and grandchildren. 

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The news this week about knife crimes all over England is pretty horrific. What on earth is going on?  Why isn't the punishment for a knife crime more severe?  I despair of British justice and am very glad that I am no longer a magistrate.

                                                                                 *

 From Dorothy Wordsworth  1800   October 2nd in Westmorland

'A very rainy morning. We walked after dinner to observe the torrents....the lichens are now coming out afresh, I carried home a collection in the afternoon.  We had a pleasant conversation about the manners of the rich - avarice, inordinate desires and the effeminacy, unnaturalness, and the  unworthy objects of education....a showery evening.  the moonlight lay upon the hills like snow.'

 

From Francis Kilvert  1874   October 7th in Radnorshire

For some time I have been trying to find the right word for the shimmering glancing twinkling movement of the popular leaves in the sun and wind.  This afternoon I saw the word written on the poplar leaves.  It was 'dazzle'.   The dazzle of the poplars. 

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Forever Love

They meet at church,
wander through cow parsley fields
red poppies, buttercups,
talk of life
hold hands
fall in love,
grow up together.

Then Josh goes to Uni,
Lola still at school
invites him to her Prom.

Too undermining
thinks Josh
and didn't go.
They part.

Both old now,
think of those days
of love, freedom and joy,
with regret,
with sadness.

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With very best wishes, Patricia