Love Unlocked and the poem: Miracle

 Dear reader,

Valentine's Day originated from a blend of ancient Roman, pagan and Christian traditions, evolving from the mid-February fertility festival of Lupercalia into a celebration of romantic love during the Middle Ages.  It is associated with Saint Valentine, a 3rd century martyr, and became linked to romance via literature by the 14th century,

A celebration for the Feast of St. Valentine on February 14th took place in the 14th/15th centuries when notions of courtly love flourished apparently by association with "lovebirds'  of early spring.  In 18th century England, it grew into an occasion for couples to express their love for each other by presenting flowers, offering confectionery, and sending greeting cards.

In Italy Saint Valentine's keys are given to lovers "as a romantic symbol and an invitation to unlock the giver's heart". 

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 From Dorothy Wordsworth   February 21st   1802 in Cumberland

'A very wet morning.....Snowdrops quite out, but cold and winterly; yet, for all this, a thrush that lives in our orchard has shouted and sung its merriest all day long.'

 

From John Ruskin  February 21st  1843 in Surrey

'What a lovely thing  bit of fine, sharp, crystallized broken snow is, held up against the blue sky catching the sun - talk of diamonds.'

 

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Miracle

 

 

Rich in England’s spring,

cow parsley entrancing

in dog-rosed hedge,

the fecund earth lush green,

a baby swallow

hatches in a Suffolk barn,

to the cries of gulls

flying over mudflats,

over sea-lavender.

 

This small bird grows

embracing our summer warmth,

swooping on insects caught

above rolling grasslands.

It dips and tumbles gracefully,

trouble free.

 

But what instinct tells of winter’s cold?

This bird, hand-sized, will

fly over icy Pyrenees,

thirst through the parched Sahara,

soar and glide on trade winds,

south to The Cape of Africa

drawn, inexplicably, to the heat

of the southern sun.

 

In early spring does

this swallow’s courageous heart

grow restless, homesick for 

a Suffolk barn?

Is it a miracle that some force

of nature returns this minute bird

to its birth-nest by the English sea?

Who knows, but it seems so to me.

 

 

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Love unlocked

 

 

 

 

What can I say about love

that has not been said?

 

 

I have little to add except

my sweetheart proffered

a unique key

to the door of possibilities,

through loving me.

 

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With very best wishes, Patricia 

 

 

 

 

Screams Unheard

 Dear reader,

The Imperial War Museum was established to record the military and civilian contributions, toil, and sacrifices of the British Empire.

It opened in 1920 at Crystal Palace, moving to its current Lambeth Road location in 1936, and has expanded to cover all modern conflicts.

It was proposed by Sir Alfred Mond and approved in March 1917 to collect materials while the war was still on going.  It aimed to be a record of the war effort rather than a monument to victory.

The War Museum holds a vast collection of over 33 million items, including personal letters, photographs and large objects like tanks and aircraft offering a comprehensive view of modern war.

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From D.H. Lawrence    February 9th   1919 in Derbyshire

'It is marvelous weather - brilliant sunshine on the snow, clear as summer, slightly golden sun, distance lit up.  But it is immensely co;d - everything frozen solid - milk, mustard, everything.  Yesterday I went out for a real walk - I have had a cold and been in bed.  I climbed with my niece to the bare top of the hills.  Wonderful it is to see the foot marks on the snow - beautiful ropes of rabbit prints, trailing away over the brows; heavy hare marks; a fox so sharp and dainty, going over the wall: birds with two feet that hop; very splendid advance of a pheasant; wood pigeons that are clumsy and move in flocks; splendid little leaping marks of weasels coming along like a necklace chain of berries; odd little filigree of the field-mice; the trail of a mole- it is astonishing what a world of wild creatures one feels about one, on the hills in the snow.' 

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Screams unheard

 

It is very well done, she said,

the War Museum,

we will visit one afternoon.

Visit the dead?

I know the grief and loss wars cause,

I remain silent, pause

then say, yes why not.

 

We did visit,

people crowded everywhere.

Schoolchildren were

chewing gum, shouting,

scribbling on odd pieces of paper,

bored with the uncool dead,

and old history.

 

We lunched in the restaurant

on hot soup, buttered buns,

then hurried downstairs to

inspect tanks and guns.

Under lowered lights

in ominous gloom,

sepia scenes of uniformed men

hung in a darkened room.

 

Underground now,

the bowels of the earth.

Ah, the virtual reality attraction

the gas chamber.

Permission to touch

the white tiles, the copper pipes

where the gas would come

not very nice, but very well done.

 

A teenager laughed

licked his ice cream,

then wandered away,

obscene, obscene.

 

Normandy landings next

on film,

Sea-sodden soldiers, exhausted, cold,

weary young faces, made old,

blasts of noise, terror and blood,

bulleted corpses floating in mud.

Screech, more aircraft over,

some of ‘our boys’ after the Hun.

Very clever, very real,

very well done.

 

We should have gone to the Dolls

Museum, she said.

Perhaps more entertaining

than the dreary dead.

 

Did anyone else hear the screams,

or feel the grief, the anger, the fear,

all of the things I felt there…..

 

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With very best wishes, Patricia                                                                             *

 

Moment

 

 Dear Reader, 

The Easter lily native to  Japan's Ryukyu Islands, became a symbol of Christ's Resurrection and purity.  Introduced to England in 1819 it was later popularized in the US after WW1 by Louis Houghton, who brought bulbs to Oregon, establishing the "Easter Lily Capital of the World".

Legend holds that white lilies sprang up in the Garden of Gethsemane where drops of Jesus's sweat fell during his final hours.  They are often called "White Robed Apostles of Hope'.

In the Christian tradition the white lily symbolizes purity, rebirth, new beginnings and hope and is most often associated with the resurrection of Jesus Christ as observed on Easter. In Pagan traditions the Easter lily is associated with motherhood and is often gifted to mothers as a symbol of gratitude.  Across many religions and beliefs the white lilies are symbols of purity and grace.

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The Easter lily is my favourite flower but unfortunately since I have aged I can't breath in the strong scent without feeling faint, and having difficulty breathing.

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From James Woodforde   February 1st  1799 in Norfolk

'Very hard frost with much snow and very rough easterly wind....  I don't know that I ever felt a more severe day.  The turnips all froze to blocks, obliged to split them with beetle and wedges, and some difficulty to get at them on account of the snow - their tops entirely gone and they lay as apples on the ground.' 

 

From Francis Kilvert   February 2nd 1872 in Radnorshire 

'The morning was superb, warm, and brilliant, like a May morning, and the hundreds of yellow stars of the Cape Jessamine between the drawing room and dining room windows, were full of bees.' 

 

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MOMENT

 

The church is cool from summer sun,

organ music plays.

 

We walk down the aisle

enjoy the scent of lilies

filling the holy air

point out ruby stained glass windows

depicting Christ on the cross,

examine oak and stone carvings

plaster heads of saints

the altar cloth rich in green and gold.

 

He runs up the pulpit steps

says a few words in Latin.

I laugh

then we kneel together in a back pew

say a prayer.

 

He takes my hand.

 

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 With very best wishes, Patricia