Dear reader,
I am writing the blog today because I realize that you didn't like the poem I put up on Sunday. I think it was a very English poem understood by the many English readers I have. But not so easy to understand from another country which didn't have boarding schools to go to.
Today's poem is about this universal man who crops up everywhere in the world, much loved by many as he dances through their lives. And then probably leaves them. But Ah they had some fun and feel that the world would be a sadder place without them.
*
From John Ruskin August 1st 1884 in Lancashire
'Very lovely with calm lake, but the roses fading, the hay cut. The summer is ended. Autumn begun.'
From Richard Hayes August 2nd 1773 in Kent
'The Fair. Gentry very doubtful of the weather. Never saw so few people pass. No ladies in their long carriages and the fewest horse people remembered.'
*
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 very best wishes, Patricia
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