To celebrate the passing of self isolation, our neighbours got together for a barbecue: for which I wrote a little ode:
A COASTGUARD COTTAGERS GATHERING July 2021
Coastguard cottagers had a meet
One evening in the July heat
They met to chat and drink and eat
Of salads , fish and barbecue
A chance to gather and renew
Communal life of yesterday
Much missed while Covid has held sway
And now we all feel quite elated
With neighbourliness reinstated!
How I wish that global community could be a default. Now, worldwide, there is a need for a generous and humanitarian cooperation; especially towards refugees and migrants. Back in the nineties I saw a programme on the tele that inspired this next poem; which, I hope, is self explanatory.
EVACUEES October 1993
Across the snowy clothed table top
The two women regard each other
Both Mothers; both flanked by family
One visiting, one hostess
One from a city many miles away
So ravaged by war, her children can no longer play
In the bombed out streets
Take your children to the country, the authorities appeal
So, here she, with her two boys sits
In the best parlour of a country Mother
A large imposing woman, with calm eyes and a straight look
Her family move around her as a harmonious whole
Bringing bread, jam, tea and a golden sponge
She carefully burnishes the spotless china
The best set of flower patterned saucers and cups
And places the pieces gently in front of her guests
The two women look at each other and smile
Without words they recognize another
See the other’s proper ordered lives, built with love
One knows that in this home, her children will be safe
And the other knows that she deserves that trust
The two families seal their future friendship
With strong sweet tea in the flower strewn cups
This blog seems to be turning into a weekly event. Look out for the next offering next weekend!
Is ” evacuees” about now, or about WW2? There was an evacuee in this house. If I tell you the story, you could turn it into a poem. It is poignant.
I would love to hear that story in a poem 🙂