The Saturday poem October - Autumnal reflections
Many thanks to kittycallum for last week's column which I know a number of readers enjoyed. As October is here themes are turning reflective with the season and indeed readers are invited to send in poems or links to poems on an Autumnal theme, either descriptive of the season or more metaphorically understood> Poems will all be shared in the post on 24th October. All suggestions welcome and there will be be a reminder before the deadline
For today a poem for those who love cats,as I know many readers of this column do,and a seasonal one from Seamus Heaney.Under the cut for 'Inessential things ' by Brian Patten and 'Postscript' by Seamus Heaney.
Inessential Things
What do cats remember of days?
They remember the ways in from the cold,
The warmest spot, the place of food.
They remember the places of pain, their enemies,
the irritation of birds, the warm fumes of the soil,
the usefulness of dust.
They remember the creak of a bed, the sound
of their owner´s footsteps,
the taste of fish, the loveliness of cream.
Cats remember what is essential of days.
Letting all other memories go as of no worth
they sleep sounder than we,
whose hearts break remembering so many
inessential things.
Brian Patten
------------------------------------------------------------
Postscript
And some time make the time to drive out west
Into County Clare, along the Flaggy Shore,
In September or October, when the wind
And the light are working off each other
So that the ocean on one side is wild
With foam and glitter, and inland among stones
The surface of a slate-grey lake is lit
By the earthed lightening of flock of swans,
Their feathers roughed and ruffling, white on white,
Their fully-grown headstrong-looking heads
Tucked or cresting or busy underwater.
Useless to think you'll park or capture it
More thoroughly. You are neither here nor there,
A hurry through which known and strange things pass
As big soft buffetings come at the car sideways
----------------------------------------
next Thursday is - in Britain anyway - National Poetry Day and there are all sorts of events and programmes to mark it including some of BBC Radio 3 and Radio 4 .I am away for it and won't have wifi probably so may do a bonus post on TSP in advance or afterwards 0
For today a poem for those who love cats,as I know many readers of this column do,and a seasonal one from Seamus Heaney.Under the cut for 'Inessential things ' by Brian Patten and 'Postscript' by Seamus Heaney.
Inessential Things
What do cats remember of days?
They remember the ways in from the cold,
The warmest spot, the place of food.
They remember the places of pain, their enemies,
the irritation of birds, the warm fumes of the soil,
the usefulness of dust.
They remember the creak of a bed, the sound
of their owner´s footsteps,
the taste of fish, the loveliness of cream.
Cats remember what is essential of days.
Letting all other memories go as of no worth
they sleep sounder than we,
whose hearts break remembering so many
inessential things.
Brian Patten
------------------------------------------------------------
Postscript
And some time make the time to drive out west
Into County Clare, along the Flaggy Shore,
In September or October, when the wind
And the light are working off each other
So that the ocean on one side is wild
With foam and glitter, and inland among stones
The surface of a slate-grey lake is lit
By the earthed lightening of flock of swans,
Their feathers roughed and ruffling, white on white,
Their fully-grown headstrong-looking heads
Tucked or cresting or busy underwater.
Useless to think you'll park or capture it
More thoroughly. You are neither here nor there,
A hurry through which known and strange things pass
As big soft buffetings come at the car sideways
----------------------------------------
next Thursday is - in Britain anyway - National Poetry Day and there are all sorts of events and programmes to mark it including some of BBC Radio 3 and Radio 4 .I am away for it and won't have wifi probably so may do a bonus post on TSP in advance or afterwards 0