My dad takes a Dextrose tablet ...

Anne's just given my dad a Dextrose tablet - 

Take it or I'll call the ambulance she said - 

When we got back from Waitrose, we found my dad holding his head in his hands - 

He had too many bumpers of Pujalet at lunchtime - 

Wine's like lemonade he says - a little glass doesn't harm you - 

For the sick and for the aged my dad starts singing - for our dear ones far away - 

16.15

Monday 10 August 2015

Staunton Road

Havant 

Up here it can be wild ...

I'd seen the Eilden Hills from my attic window in The Old Grocery - 

Now I stood with Martin on Eilden Mid Hill, high above the ancient town - 

We spoke to a lean walker upon the summit - my heart was pounding from the climb - a cold wind blew over the borderland - dark clouds shrouded bare hill tops - valleys were rich quilts of fields -   

Did you see the lightning last night? the walker asked - I was in Galashiels - I wouldn't have liked to have been up here on the hills last night - 

He pointed eastwards - on a clear day you can see the coast he said - 

Martin lifted up his binocculars - 

Far below us, Alyson and Penelope rested amidst the heather - 

The walker's bare legs were brown and knotted - 

Up here it can be wild he said - 

Thursday 2 July 2015

Eilden Mid Hill 

Eilden Hills 

Scotland 

 

Swimming in Worbarrow Bay ...

Today, I walked with Penelope from Tyneham to Flowers Barrow - 

Modest butterflies settled upon thistle flowers -

They're Lulworth Skippers Penelope said - 

We walked under a flawless summer sky - a small plane flew across the blueness -  

Below us, waves broke at the foot of the chalk cliffs - 

Flowers Barrow was a broken crown of turf -

Deep memory was all around us - 

Later, I swam in Worbarrow Bay - 

Penelope sat next to my clothes on the beach - 

A white yacht was anchored close to the shore - 

We could still see the moon in the sky, suspended over the turquoise sea -

11.00

Saturday 8 August 2015

Flowers Barrow

Worbarrow Bay

Dorset

 

Anne's rewound the clocks ...

I'm sitting in Beth's garden - 

Bright sunshine warms the emptied house - 

Anne's on the phone to Tessa - 

We're waiting for the men from the charity shop she says - 

Cardboard boxes are heaped up in the lounge - 

We've packed away a life - 

A few moments ago, I found the itinerary of Beth's jaunt to India and Nepal - 

My spirits lifted - 

I imagined Beth, in the dancing aircraft, peering out the window at Mount Everest -  

There she was, sipping chai in Kathmandu, getting ready to go on a sunset tour to Kakani - 

There would always be those golden days, I thought - the pilgrimage to Lourdes - time ashore in Suva - 

Anne's rewound the clocks - 

Their chimes evoke memories like a soft wind stirring fallen leaves - 

12.55

Friday 7 August 2015

Beth's house 

Wincanton 

Forgetting the sadness of emptied rooms ...

I'm warming myself in the sun after swimming - 

Anne's smoothing the fine sand with her long fingers - 

My legs are still beaded with seawater - there's salt in my hair - 

I can hear the sound of small waves - 

Summer yachts are anchored off Old Harry - 

A fallen tree casts a twisted shadow - 

Sunburnt tribes mark their territories with yellow windbreaks - 

Dads play wild beach cricket - 

Girls whoop like bacchantes - 

I forget the sadness of emptied rooms - 

16.52

Thursday 6 August 2015

Middle Beach 

Studland

Clearing the house ...

I'm reading The Wasteland in the emptied  house - I've put down the history of Westminster Hospital - 

A toy kangeroo sleeps in an icy bedroom - sad china hides in a chiffonier - 

Dominic seeks out Chuck, the gardener - 

Anne folds up sweet smelling linen - 

Margot says my mother said she'd make a hundred - 

The gentle clock chimes the wrong hour - 

A life is marked by tender memorabilia -  

There are no clothes in the wardrobes - 

Father Louis says Beth ironed the vestments - 

Dominic smiles a gentle wounded smile - 

Safe journey we say - safe journey - take care -

Beth's house

Wincanton

15.30

Wednesday 5 2015

 

Breakfast in Dunfermline House ...

I left The Old Grocery for Dunfermline House revived by a cafetière of Quinchia - 

I'd slept deeply after nightcaps of Rioja, cocooned in dreams, waking once to hear thunder - the bed had moved beneath me, like a raft under a dazed mariner - 

I threw off my duvet around seven in the morning - I remembered dreadful dawns in bedsits, times of penury and wonder - 

I showered in the elegant bathroom, washing my shock of white hair - 

I was sorry to say goodbye to Malcolm and Angie - I hoped we would meet again -

In Dunfermline House, I ate a full Scottish - 

There was no sign of the silent daughter - 

Outside the house, before we started our journey, I took a photograph of my companions - 

Martin had decided to grow a beard - later he would say - call me Martin Martinson - 

Alyson and Penelope smiled their gentle smiles - 

The way lay before us, pilgrim's step by pilgrim's step - 

09.00

Thursday 2 July 2015

Outside Dunfermline House

Melrose