Several busy days over the last week, plus the mini-trauma of a morning having my cataracts examined - all adding up to last night being a night of restless sleep. So today I am weary. I just feel like sitting about doing very little. Watching World Gymnastics - such brilliant young men and women launching themselves into thin air, trusting their skill to stop them falling headlong in a heap on the mat. Such elegance. Yet watching them is not relaxing. The possibility of falling heavily is never far away.
Trawling through 'rubbish' that has accumulated in my computer I came across this poem I wrote a few years ago for The Poetry Bus. This is just how I feel today:
Scrimshanker.
Today the dust lies thick
as the sunlight falls on the shelf.
It also falls on the apple-blossom
on the tree by the window.
I go out - touch the blossom -
smell the scent of Spring;
watch the honey bees
-models of work and efficiency.
The dust lies thick.
Yesterday the weeds were crowded in the garden:
chickweed, groundsel, fat hen,
the ubiquitous dandelion.
I bend to weed -
touch the yellow flowers -
miniature golden suns all over the garden.
Count the heads.
I cannot destroy
a hundred suns.
Someone should clean the windows;
sunshine shows up the smears
- it shines on the cobwebs
of fine gossamer -
threads that shimmer and
tremble in the breeze.
The busy spider is
weaving his way across the web.
I fetch my sketchbook.
I need to capture the beauty
on the page.
(Scrimshanker - an avoider of work)
That's great! A hundred suns, and threads that shimmer and tremble in the breeze. Love it. - Pam.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful. I have had quite a few days like that myself, but could never have expressed them so perfectly.
ReplyDeleteOnce again I must say - John (Going Gently) is not the only one that should write a book. Jackie
ReplyDeleteHello Pat- I’ve tried commenting a few times but it never shows up here… anyway, I really want you to know that I love your posts, and I think your poetry is beautiful! Xo, Ricki
ReplyDeleteThis is just perfect. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteI think I'm a scrimshanker at times.
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful poem and a new to me word!
ReplyDeleteI agree that watching gymnastics on TV is not relaxing at all. You just have to help the athletes stay in the air and land just right, don't you?
Sweet dreams and hugs!
A perfect description of me, my windows, the dusty shelf, but not my garden. All the weeds have been conquered, but alas the pine needles and leaves are. beginning to fall. No rest for the wicked I guess.
ReplyDeleteI feel like doing "nothing" today (except for some ironing), but it is Sunday after all, and supposed to be a day of rest. The weather promises to be really nice and relatively warm at 23C this afternoon, so I might go for a walk to catch the late afternoon light and the sunset.
ReplyDeleteYour poem is so expressive!
I have never heard the word before which I have not written. (The poem is autobiographical I do believe).
ReplyDeleteA magpie mind, we pluck the things out of the air, and fall short of 'what we should be doing' As someone said 'life is too short to stuff a mushroom'
ReplyDeleteLovely.
ReplyDeleteI’m right there with you experiencing the hedonistic pleasure of being idle while Mother Nature is at her industrious best.
Well stated. Eloquent as well. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteThanks everyone. Seems we all have these feelings sometimes.
ReplyDeleteI just love this.
ReplyDeleteI love the whimsy and the way it seems effortless.
I love this, Pat. I have learned a new word. I also see you in a new light. You have always struck me as the epitome of industriousness.
ReplyDeleteThat's a new word to me too.
ReplyDeleteI can always find something to do rather than dusting!
First of all, I love the word "scrimshanker"! Even more now that I know what it means! "I cannot destroy a hundred suns" takes my breath away. So glad you found this poem and "dusted" it off for the rest of us to ponder and enjoy.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful line about the suns.
ReplyDelete