Not One of Us

 Dear Reader,

 

In the poem I have published today there is a  mention of netball.  This was a game I supposed to know the rules of and didn't, amongst many other things of which I was ignorant at this boarding school. If you don't know what netball is all about here is a small synopsis.

Netball originated from basketball in the late 19th century, adapting the sport for female players and emphasizing etiquette and modified rules.  It evolved from a variation of women's basketball in the United States and England eventually becoming a distinct sport with its own set of rules and regulations.

Beyond the fun and the fast-paced action netball offers a range of physical, mental and cognitive benefits for growing children and teenagers.  It helps develop communication skills, builds physical fitness and creates plenty of opportunities to socialize while giving players a real boost of confidence.

The main object of netball is to score goals from within a defined area by throwing  a ball into a ring attached to a 3.05 metres (10 feet) high post.   Players are assigned specific positions, which define their roes with in the team and restrict their movements to certain areas of the court.

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From Richard Hayes    July 30th  1776 in Kent

'Total eclipse of the moon.  Came on soon after 10 in the evening.  Began on the left side of the moon, and in about one hour was totally eclipsed, so that all her beautiful glittering (borrowed) light was quite gone; but not so far that you might not discern her.  She appeared of a beautiful orange colour like (not near so red) blood, resembling the light she appears in through fog.   Total darkness said to continue till about three quarters after one.   But I went to bed soon after she was totally eclipsed.'

From Dorothy Wordsworth   July 31st  1802 in London

'We mounted the Dover Coach at Charing Cross.  It was a beautiful morning.   The city, St. Paul's, with the river and a multitude of little boats, made a most beautiful sight as we crossed Westminster Bridge.  The houses were not overhung by their cloud of smoke, and they were spread out endlessly, yet the sun shone so brightly, with such a fierce light, that there was something like the purity of one of nature's own grande spectacles.'

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Not one of us

 

 

 

A small figure at school in

a hot, strange land.   The

children left her alone,

she didn’t speak their language

or know their games or rules.

She was not one of them.

 

Winter now and an English

boarding school, where the rules

were known, but not to her.

She was clumsy, wore spectacles,

couldn’t tie her tie, dropped the netball,

couldn’t master dance steps gracefully

to the music of “Greensleeves”,

was not an asset, wouldn’t do.

She was not one of them.

 

She simply asked,

why do the safely-grounded

hear the beat of a terrified heart

and seek to silence it?   Is the beat

too loud, something not understood,

something to frighten?

Are things better when the group

destroys the alien in its midst?

 

She never knew,

she was not one of them

 

                                                                              *

 

With very best wishes, Patricia