Love is neither here nor there!

   

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love is a hammock

rocked in a hospital ward

all night till morning

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sun sea sheep shadows

the old black mill on the hill

love is a pathway

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a pen in his hand

memories of those daffodils

love is poetry

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photo in a frame

his eyes mirror everything

love is memory

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love is a retreat

dreaming in Kipling’s Garden

the hum of the bees

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kove is kind service

talking taking tea with friends

cupcakes pink icing

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 Notes

Sometimes I write  a fragment on a daily basis just to keep me going.  The winter down here is never my favourite time of year and it gets more difficult to deal with as one gets older. Writing, painting, blogging and soon film making again, is for me a godsend.

The first fragment refers to the amazing post-operative care I had when in hospital many moons ago.  I had gone on my first holiday with my now long term partner to Venice, the children happily in the company of  their grandparents.

It was on our first day sightseeing  when my back collapsed! So there I lay on a wall  in St Marks Square groaning.

Later it transpired that three or was it four discs in my back had collapsed, (partly I suspect due to years of manipulating marionettes and putting up theatres).  I was flown back to hospital that night!

It was many months before I could get back to work and then with a heavy corset, adaptations to my car etc. Years of  mind over matter helped but the memory of waking up in that hammock never left me.

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