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Tag Archives: Poem for The Day

Story Writing, Raymond Carver and Old Notebooks

We were shopping for children’s books today, for six months old to nine years old and found some beauties with which to entertain the LiveWires later this month. While we in the bookshop there was an author event going on, Craig Green writing a story with young customers. It was a delight to hear the contributions for their 26 words story and his lovely way of using their suggestions.

Story writing with Craig Green

Today’s poem in Poem for the Day is this little beauty from Raymond Carver who died on this day in1988. To love and be loved really is all that matters.

Late Fragment by Raymond Carver

Big, big sorting today on another rain-filled day – this time through all my writings from when our son was very ill soon after being born. My notes take us from Day 11 of his little life, his three heart operations, (though today, reading just the first two was enough), my poems, the little things I have kept from those days. We have both cried this afternoon, reading and remembering, but the beautiful thing is that, despite the odds, 50/50; then 60/40  and again 60/40 against his survival, he and his twin sister are almost 40 and he is himself the Father of twins. One day soon, I shall write up the whole experience, the horrors and the delights, the successes and the mistakes, the lovely things that were said and some of the shocking thoughtless words said by people who should have known better.

Here is a photo of the garden a few moments ago when the sun came out after a day of rain reminding us of how the sun shone in our lives as our lovely boy and his three lovely siblings grew to be such wonderful, thoughtful, kind and much loved adults.

Sunshine after rain

 

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Contrasts, Rhubarb and Jenny Joseph

1   The Cornus Controverta Variegata leaves contrast beautifully with the new Fennel growth.

Cornus Controverta variegata

Cornus Controverta variegata

2     We have picked our first sticks of Rhubarb and what a glorious colour they are.

Beautiful rhubarb

Beautiful rhubarb

3    Jenny Joseph is well know for her delightful poem, ‘Warning’ which is well known and begins

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.

Today’s poem in my Poem for the Day is also by her and pleases me greatly.  Here is “The Sun Has Burst The Sky”

The sun has burst the sky
Because I love you
And the river its banks.

The sea laps the great rocks
Because I love you
And takes no heed of the moon dragging it away
And saying coldly ‘Constancy is not for you’.
The blackbird fills the air
Because I love you
With spring and lawns and shadows falling on lawns.

The people walk in the street and laugh
I love you
And far down the river ships sound their hooters
Crazy with joy because I love you.

This is for the lovely Mr Smith whom I met in late October 1966 and married fewer than 10 months later in August 1967.
 

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Three Toed Sloth, Lunch and A Little Poem

1   I have finished sewing up Grand-baby B’s birthday present. I have completely fallen in love with the gorgeous, cuddly Three Toed Sloth!

Three Toed Lemur

Three Toed Sloth

2   It has been a beautiful Spring day today and we have had our first lunch in the garden in the sunshine with the scent of Narcissi in the air.

Mozzarella, Tomato and Avocado Salad with a Balsamic dressing

Mozzarella, Tomato and Avocado Salad with a Balsamic dressing

3   We have tidied up the garden – I have raked the soil in one raised bed to a fine tilth, not for vegetables this year but a whole box devoted to flowers, some of them edible for salads and the lovely Mr S has mown the lawn, weeded and dug in the green manure in another of the raised beds. I have taken no more photos since lunch so I have turned to one of my poetry books, Poem for The Day and found this little gem as today’s poem, Celia, Celia by Adrian Mitchell.  It made me smile. I hope you do too.

When I am sad and weary

When I think all hope has gone

When I walk along High Holborn

I think of you with nothing on

 

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