Sunday, 3 June 2012
Good-bye Autumn, Hello Winter
Autumn has been served ...
... and now it is winter. Not that I mind winter - having a winter birthday on the Southern Hemisphere's equivalent to the Northern Hemisphere's Christmas Day, 25th June, certainly helps. Although I do recall a downside - when I turned eleven, I cried most sorrowfully because a heavy snowfall had prevented Mum from buying my birthday present in time. That was just one of many occasions I was told not to feel so sorry for myself.( I actually came to think that 'feeling sorry for myself' was a sin. So much so that at Confession, I'd dutifully confess how many times I'd felt sorry for myself 'since my last confession'). Thus began a lifelong habit of tabulating sorrows.
A sight I always miss when our sons leave after coming to spend time with us again. This time it was Chris out with the skateboard. The first thing he bought when he got back from being overseas was a new skateboard.
For days our house was soothed by the mellow tones of Jenny teaching herself Beethoven's bagatelle, 'Fur Elise'. She noticed that our piano was made in Berlin and a connection was made between Jenny (born and brought up in Eastern Germany) and our piano.
Now our piano lies quiet again, 'Fur Elise' only playing in my head.
It's a dappled tune full of quick steps, slow pauses, sun and shade, light and shadow, gladness and sorrow all mixed up and following on. I could picture falling leaves and rushing water. Jenny's worries that I would get tired of the constant repetition, were really to no avail. The tune swam into the background, providing a motif for the days that she and Chris spent with us.
When they left three days ago now, the house and the piano seemed to utter a deep, sad sigh.
P.S. But do you know what? Remember how I wasn't looking forward to seeing only two toothbrushes? ... Well unbeknownst to us, first Chris decided (secretly) that he'd leave his toothbrush behind and then when Jenny found that out, she decided that she would leave her's behind too. Chris wrote a poem and left it with the toothbrushes. When I discovered it after they'd left, I cried.
So, we still have four toothbrushes ... and a poem.
We left behind our toothbrushes
resting safe between yours
where they can hear Grommet's meowing
and the creaking of the floors,
where you can say good morning
to their bristly little faces
and they will beam back happy
in the loveliest of places.
We will pick them up again
the next time we come home
it's just nice to leave something here
an anchor while we roam.
I have been neglecting this blog for some months. I think perhaps I should face facts and accept that it is indeed time to retire this blog...
Calling all poets -: Just a reminder about the poetry competition currently running at poems in the Waiting Room - go HERE for details. Clo...
The mild winter that we are experiencing has everyone remarking. I put out sugar water for the birds, but so far it has o...
Waipounamu (Wall Poem) Hoisting history on his back like a sugar-sack, the swagger strides along greenstone trails. All night the crib...