Friday 9 September 2016

Blessings and a New Muse


This blog has been in the Doldrums but now I am inspired to put text to screen once more and share some poetry with my invisible friends: 


This is a photo of my travelling companion at a cafe table outside Henderson's in Edinburgh. I just want to emphasise the joy of Edinburgh on a sunny day. This year's International Festival was wonderful as always.

A recent blessing has been the arrival into my life of a new muse - I hope she sticks around ....



Walking with Impunity

She’s not an ocelot
It’s a different sort of face
Rosettes not single spots
With power and grace
She matches me pace for pace

She’s not a cheetah
That would be too fast
Never outruns me
I don’t come last

She’s not a jaguar
Her head more fine
People believe in stranger things
This is mine.

She’s not my daemon
We proudly share a gender
And somewhere in here
Thanks to her -

I’m still young and full of grace
I have leopard-print leggings
And a stunning face
My eyes are compelling
This fantasy is telling

She strolled in through
A Big Cat-flap in my mind

Imaginary friend
I won’t outgrow
She came
And made herself at home
In the fantasy land
Of my muddled brain
When life was cold
And time had slowed

And in alternative reality
She warms the plains
And mountain ranges
Keeps me sane

No sense of her mortality
My alter ago, better self
The creature I would choose to be
She never changes
Wild and free
I’m channelling -

My muse, my leopard, my Impunity



Who or what would your imaginary friend be?


  

I needed a little rant about the affection many of us feel for the beleaguered NHS after it has been challenged and eroded in so many ways recently.  Somehow many of the staff summon up the Spirit of the Blitz and keep on giving of their best. I wrote this after encountering a particularly amazing doctor who showed no signs of compassion fatigue - a small miracle. Some of the buildings people have to work in are Third world standard but this man and many others are First Class. They deserve better and I wrote this to make the point (and the rant was very good for me). 


Hands On
Sally Givertz


They're like gold dust round here
Can't get one for love nor money
A waiting list as long as your arm
And even then you'll be lucky


But they sent this one over from 
Aberdeen!
He made like it was just for me
Relaxed, all the time in the world


He said, "Can I see your hands?"  
He took them so gently and looked;
He turned them over palms upward,
And looked.


I felt blessed, recognised, seen. 
Like Jane being clocked by Rochester

Bless the NHS
For all your faults
(And they are many)
We love you
You’re family 

We won't let the bastards grind you down
We all know who they are -
Chasing the money
Getting their hands dirty
And covered in grime

But you at the front line
At the coal face 
In the line of fire
You walk out of the flames 
Shining 


So a short blog to warm up with. May you be inspired too.