Stretching of the Boundary’s

The blue grey face rose,
square jawed.

The narrowed eyes
leveled aggressively

as they burned
with the fire of dawn,

downcast and threatening,

the mouth
a straight spiteful slit.

The floating grey hair
drifts to one side,

as if windswept.

Stretching the Boundary’s

We all see images in the sky now and then. some are wishful others more definite.

This was the later and would have been frightening were it not simply the product of sunrise.

It was not an image that could have been caught with the phone camera because the fire in the eyes of that sunrise cloud face, would have held too much glare and a true picture would not have been possible as we drove toward the traffic lights at Crossbush on the A27 before we turned east for the remaining mile of our drive to the start of our run this morning.

Yet understand this; I did not make up that visage in the first lines today, it is what we saw.

The run itself was mediocre and uneventful, not one of our best and thankfully that went for both of us. We agreed that we must both be a bit on the tired side after a busy day at home yesterday when we got through a lot of jobs, some business communications, keeping in touch with colleagues and clients who all hope that things will pick up after a slump that has been unprecedented during the Covid19 crisis.

There are no newly planted Geraniums, Petunia or Pansies in my garden this summer. No hard earned cash squandered away on prettying up my postage stamp size back garden. No; instead I have planted snow peas and dwarf French beans, several varieties of lettuce and other miscellaneous seeds all in the wall planters and big pots; my theory is, that anything that can climb, can also cascade.  I have even planted grass in pots for the cat Birdy who is also shut in with us, to prevent her being stroked by any germy passer-by or neighbour.

My lovely daughter Jakki, know better as Jacqueline Rackham Photography, has encouraged me in this uncharacteristic bent by sending me some started lettuce plants from her nice big greenhouse, a big pot with a few runner bean plants, another gift from J, ready to climb the bamboo sticks she had already set up. She also sent her husband along with a couple of grow bags in case I ran out of pots. What a thoughtful young woman. 

So the garden is now tidy and expectant. The snow peas, Shiraz variety, are already four or five inches tall. The French beans a bit behind, as I was sowing them. 

This is not the only change in my home life habits since after a good deal of sorting and tidying, I realised that at eighty years old, I do not need to buy new clothes ever again for the rest of my term in office in our humble abode. It was this realization that brought me to the decision that during this time, mostly spent indoors for the last eleven weeks, that I would not lower my standards and simply slob out in comfy old clothes. 

To that end, once we have finished our daily triathlon fitness training, that involves run or bike training daily, then Qigong sessions, Tai Chi, Stretch, Yoga and the much loved ballet workout. I then take a relaxing bath and dress as if we were going out. I am giving my best dresses, long skirts, shirts and other tops that have been saved for best, all a turn to parade about in, even if only to listen to Classic FM Radio or to chat over dinner or a cup of tea in the afternoon before selecting something to watch on TV before we go to bed. Bedtime is early in a house where the alarm goes of a 4.20 a.m.  One of the recordings being offered of West End shows, Opera or ballet are favourites. The National Theatre and the Royal Opera House have a weekly schedule and almost to suit us, they start a 7 pm and finish at our bedtime. No intervals.

In another poignant moment this morning, I wrote these last words for today.

This small poem is number: 1015 in my poetry file.

Can one think where the future leads us now?

Of government order we’re locked indoors.

Vigorous argument shows no way out,

In this rogue sickness still swirling about.

Dare we trust each day, with my life and yours?