A fairly good day…

Today I planted some some plants that had arrived at the end of last week. I did get them outside in the rain on Sunday evening. They weren’t particularly thirsty but every drop helps.

This is for the raised bed I made. I am beautifying the other side of my garden. Pete has come up with plans that will save me having to pay to go to the dump.

I gave some neighbours a bowl of my tomatoes. I hope they enjoy them as much as I do. It’s such a good feeling to give home grown food away. I found out at the weekend that a community garden has been started nearby. I will pop along some time.

I have been editing. It is so tiring. I got some eye drops for tired eyes. I should wear my glasses more often.

I received my copy of Locked Write Down today. It’s always a rewarding feeling. I only know one of the other poets included in it. His poem is very fine.

My hip has played up a few times today. Last night when I went to bed I could feel the nerves right down to my ankle. It’s very odd. I wonder what the x-ray will show.

Boris Johnson has arranged for cycling to be prescribed on the NHS. This is good in principle, but one must cycle fast enough to raise one’s heartbeat in order to get fit or fitter. Just ambling to work to to the shops is not enough. One would need to take a change of clothes to work to make it work. I know people who do this. Walking is the same principle, as with any exercise.

And he goes on about a second spike of Covid-19 but we’re still in the first wave. Oh dear. Not listening to the science.

For My Dad

For My Dad
Transparent skin on your long fingered hands
I didn’t notice before the same hands as mine and I belong
Not in slipping sands, alone, but from you, made by you
And I realise your flesh is less and veins blue are seen
Under the beauty of your frame and so I realise with tears
We are the same

Each day that I don’t see you there is a fear I won’t again
And that is too much pain for me to bear because of death
Visiting me long ago and I pushed my face against your neck
No letting go, wanting life, wanting you to never let me fall
You carried me

Your eyes still smile at me and humour from all my life is near
I make you laugh despite my fear and swallow the rising wail
Of grief untold, not yet borne, but dreaded though I steal the time
That still is left to us to share. I hold my breath and do not dare
To go far from you. I hold your hand often cold and want be told
Death is not near

I’ve known you young and middle years you never changed
Or spoke untruths. You walked and walked for search of solitude
But now I will not let you alone I will not leave you to the world
That in your head baffles you and yesterday is forever gone
If I could bear it in your stead you know my love for you understood
And I am still your little girl sat on your knee

Bournemouth Poetry Wall 2013

For My Dad

For my Dad

Open your drawer, stars, sun and moon
Flew out, surrounding me in your world
Orion and Pleiedes flooded the room
I lay on the floor, sobbed
Books for birding, books for trees, marshes
I felt their branches, knew their leaves
Running water was music to us both
I miss you and yet you live
The birds whose song you taught to me
Your binoculars I have kept for myself
For still I seek out birds and song
A habit instilled by loving you
You live now tricked by your memories, cruel
Always the problem solver, now you depend
On medicines and love from me
Yet til now your humour stays

Published on Bournemouth Library Wall some years ago