We have acquired new titles over the past months: vulnerable person, person at risk, a stay at home person, a socially distanced person. A new world is closing down around us. We are fortunate that our extended household keeps us both busy, active and engaged. Grandchildren are the joy and delight in the house. Daughter, Sorcha and son-in-law, Chris, are both out in the world and contributing to making it safe while engaging as teachers, a hugely important role for normalising this new situation. We continue to be in the world, minding, chauffeuring, keeping house, writing, studying, making, being. In addition, I am now at the point of ending an older part of our world. After 60 years of work, I will now formally close down my business on 11th November, which will be my 75th birthday. Some say that you shouldn’t signpost the older life, but, damn it, I want to close and celebrate. It has been a huge roller coaster working life. I should point out that this is not slippers, fireplace, TV and oblivion. There is another project out there prepared by the Masters in Poetry which I will complete early next year. With all this in mind, I was drawn to write the following poem.
As usual: read, enjoy, feedback, pass on.
Pauline Flynn
10.10.2020 12:27
I love the clarity of purpose in this poem plus an excitement for what comes next. No messing about.
Latest comments
25.11 | 22:15
Grief is experience through the mundane. Simple but powerful. The accompanying image really compliments the poem.
07.11 | 11:14
Hi Peter,
A great observation! Social media can be a scary place... I also need to reduce my time there
Hugs,
John.x
06.11 | 16:24
A great one, Peter, in the context you describe. I don't read social media myself, I doubt my equilibrium could stand it. 'The balance of his mind disturbed' yes, I think it would be.
06.11 | 15:59
Yes, gossip is a weapon of mass destruction.
In my business as well as personal life I have zero tolerance.
Echoes of the Old on the New Battlefields
Warrior chiefs of the GAA were early on the field to prepare:
Posts and cones positioned to mark territories
Very young novices came later by parents’ chariots
clad and shod for the ensuing battles
Firstly, paced for speed, resilience and flexibility,
then marked off into opposing teams
Each warrior chief led a young squad of hopefuls
in further exercises to bring them to fit levels
There followed a huddle, an exhortation rant,
responded with clamour of intent and enthusiasm
Skirmishes began, speed across the field, hunt for the ball,
to be delivered as the goal, or to be prevented at all costs
Warrior chiefs egged on, instructed, altered the field of play
the young ’uns complied with fighting spirit
For every fall and hurt spells were cast on the side line
till fitness returned and they were entered back into play
Scores mounted, roars enhanced, casualties grew,
novices flagged and regrouped across the fields
Between bouts came the talks of encouragement
Stay back, pass, pass, pass, keep the pace.
Old hands passing skill onto new palms with dedication,
a gift of generous wisdom gladly given
Peter Clarke
20th April 2024