RSS

Monthly Archives: April 2017

Tony Harrison, A Fox and Our Back Garden

It is April 30th and I have made an attempt to publish a poem every day throughout this Poetry Month – didn’t quite manage it! This one is a delight to me. Tony Harrison was born on this day in 1937 and his poem celebrates his Father who was adept at icing Wedding cakes but didn’t seem to mind that his work was ephemeral, destroyed in the celebration of a marriage. I love how Tony Harrison relates the ephemerality of the iced cake to the short life of the sandcastle built by him and his Dad as the tide comes in. I love the salt water of the sea tied up with the salt of his tears as he both remembers and mourns his Father.

The Icing Hand 
Tony Harrison 

That they lasted only till the next high tide
bothered me, not him whose labour was to make
sugar lattices demolished when the bride,
with help from her groom’s hot hand, first cut the cake.

His icing hand, gritty with sandy grains, guides
my pen when I try shaping memories of him
and his eyes scan with mine the rising tides
neither father nor his son could hope to swim.

His eyes stayed dry while I, the kid, would weep
to watch the castle that had taken us all day
to build and deck decay, one wave-surge sweep
our winkle-stuccoed edifice away.

Remembrance like ice cake crumbs in the throat,
remembrance like wind-blown Blackpool brine
overfills the poem’s shallow moat
and first, ebbing, salts, then, flowing, floods this line.

We had a fox in the back field today. The photo is on maximum zoom and isn’t very clear but gives you an idea of what we were watching for about twenty minutes.

As I was watching the fox, I thought a photo of the garden at the end of April might be right for tonight so here it is. You can see how lovely it is to have the field at the back of us.

 

 

Tags:

Walk, Wildlife and Three Daft Monkeys Gig

We have had a fabulous walk with our friend today along the SW Coast path around St Anthony Head.

 

We are off now to Falmouth Pavilions to the Three Daft Monkeys cd launch event! Dancing all night!

 

Tags:

St Ives, Tremenheere Gardens and St Euny

What a delightful day out this as been with our friend whom we have not seen for about 30 years! It is so lovely how the years just drop away as if they have not been! Please enjoy our gallery of our trip to St Ives and then our visit to Tremenheere Sculpture Gardens. Please click on any photo for detail and the caption.

I came home to find that Anna Oliver of Fresca Marketing in Redruth had sent me the programme that she is designing for Until the Day Break and it is fabulous! I can’t show you yet but I will show you as the show starts on 18th May.

 

Tags: ,

Spring Posy, Clematis and Beribboning

I collected a tiny posy of Spring flowers today for my lovely little pottery container sent to me by our lovely friend, P.

The Clematis in the front garden is beautiful.

We have a friend staying for a few days and we all walked down to the Churchyard to take photos of four special gravestones which are to be part of the performance 18th-21st May. They are each to be marked by ribbons and the four young women being remembered will be wearing the same colour of ribbon on their costume.

 

Tags:

Stained Glass, James Fenton and A Gift of Flowers

We have a pretty little panel of stained glass that hangs in the kitchen window. This morning, before the blind was lifted, the early sun was shining through and lighting up the engine house.

There’s food for thought in this poem, The Ideal by James Fenton and I like it.

This is where I came from.
I passed this way.
This should not be shameful
or hard to say.

A self is a self.
It is not a screen.
A person should respect
what he has been.

This is my past
which I shall not discard.
This is the ideal.
This is hard.

Our lovely neighbour Sue came in for supper tonight and shared a photo of some remarkably beautiful flowers sent to her from Heligan in condolence and in the memory of her very special husband, Bill,  who died recently and for whom I posted on 14th April.

Sue’s flowers from the staff at The Lost Gardens of Heligan

 

Tags: , ,

A Poem, A Dog and Wisteria

Regular readers will know how I appreciate a good poem, one that speaks to me. A one time pupil who became a student in our Training School, then a colleague and latterly a friend has written a delightful poem telling of the sudden temperature change that has been seen all over the UK today though without any hail or snow here in Cornwall. Natalie has given me permission to use her poem in tonight’s blog. Thank you, Natalie, I love the picture conjured up by your words.  The alliteration in

Sending the dog doollally
Dancing a dervish
Round the living room

is perfect!

Bella, photo taken by Natalie Doig

 

The temperature slumped
The light was sucked from
Us by cumulus nimbus,
Glooming black shroud,
Cracked open with a jolt
Of pink lightening,
And spitting balls of ice,
Which bounced on the lawn
Sending the dog doollally
Dancing a dervish
Round the living room
Spilling tea in scampering happiness,
At least someone was astonished
By April’s apocalyptic weather
Wagging her tail
Until the sun reemerged.

By Natalie Doig

I did take a photo of some gorgeous Wisteria but my camera didn’t have its memory card in – sorry!

 

 

Tags:

St Euny, Ribbons and Linda Pastan

Another trip to St Euny to measure up four graves which are to be marked by ribbons and then a trip to the ribbon shop! I love The Sewing Studio in Redruth!

I came across this poem for the first time recently and it caught my fancy. Let’s live every day as if it were our first and it fills us with astonishment at the beauty all around us.

Imaginary Conversation – Linda Pastan

You tell me to live each day
as if it were my last. This is in the kitchen
where before coffee I complain
of the day ahead—that obstacle race
of minutes and hours,
grocery stores and doctors.

But why the last? I ask. Why not
live each day as if it were the first—
all raw astonishment, Eve rubbing
her eyes awake that first morning,
the sun coming up
like an ingénue in the east?

You grind the coffee
with the small roar of a mind
trying to clear itself. I set
the table, glance out the window
where dew has baptized every
living surface.

 

Tags: , , ,

 
%d bloggers like this: