Dear Reader,
I wrote today's poem for my husband Geoffrey at the end of his life, when he was very ill. I looked after him for years and months before he died, and it was heartbreaking to see him slowly disintegrate. But sometimes he seemed to perk up and get better and I wrote the poem on one of those occasions. It has been eight years now since he died and I do miss him. Looking at photographs makes things worse, I remember all the sunshine and the joys of being together and all the love that I received and gave.
*
On Wednesday this week Francis and I went to the Wildlife Park near Burford. And what a treat it was. The sun shone and it was warm ice cream weather. The park was started by a family who lived in the big house which had fields and gardens surrounding it. They decided to fill the grounds with animals from all over the world so that we can all enjoy them without having to travel to faraway places. All the animals looked so well and healthy but I just had a question in my mind. Were they happy enclosed? They looked happy but I wonder whether they were. What was taken from them was their freedom. I have watched documentaries on wild life and seen meerkats scurrying around in the desert alerting themselves and their families to danger. But they are fed well, they are safe and have medical care if needed so perhaps I can stop worrying about them. The camels looked a bit moth eaten but perhaps that is how camels look. We finished the day with a small train ride round the estate and agreed that we had had a lovely day out.
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From John Clare September 26th 1824 in Northants
'Took a walk in the fields, heard the harvest cricket and shrew-mouse uttering their little chickering sons among the crackling stubble.'
From Gerard Manley Hopkins September 28th 1874 in Denbighshire
.....to Caerwys wood, a beautiful place. The day being then dark and threatening we walked some time under a grey light more charming than sunshine falling through boughs and leaves.'
From quiet homes and first beginning
Out to the undiscovered ends
There's nothing worth the wear of winning
But laughter and love of friends.
Hilaire Belloc
*
this man
loved blue
it was a ship, a blue ship
that he sailed in
it was his power
made his heart beat faster
drove him along life’s waterways
but he sailed away
came adrift
became shipwrecked
no power no heartbeat
this man
had lost the blue
but I made a small ship out of wood
gave it sails of the finest silk
an engine fired with love
now he sails again
his power came back
and I painted the ship blue
for
this man
*
With very best wishes, Patricia
d
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