Week Six
A week when I didn't feel like doing anything. a week when I couldn't get motivated.
It was the week my darling husband passed away last year from a brain tumour.
A verse from this poem was read at his funeral.
Funeral Blues
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message 'He is Dead'.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
W. H. Auden
***********************************************
Everybody who has a garden I'm sure has been gardening, planted flowers to watch grow.
The lawns are being mowed regularly looking neat.
My garden is looking quite bare after two years of neglect. I've been pulling weeds, and these weeds were not flowers just in the wrong place!
The Three Cornered Leek was bullying and taking over the garden so I may enjoy the garden next year but I did buy some "posh" Tulips from the flower show at Taunton last year.
I am concentrating on the front garden as that is the part everyone see first.
I went for a walk in the fine rain Wednesday morning.
Saw these pretty flowers in the hedgerow on my walk
A week when I didn't feel like doing anything. a week when I couldn't get motivated.
It was the week my darling husband passed away last year from a brain tumour.
A verse from this poem was read at his funeral.
Funeral Blues
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message 'He is Dead'.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
W. H. Auden
***********************************************
The lawns are being mowed regularly looking neat.
My garden is looking quite bare after two years of neglect. I've been pulling weeds, and these weeds were not flowers just in the wrong place!
The Three Cornered Leek was bullying and taking over the garden so I may enjoy the garden next year but I did buy some "posh" Tulips from the flower show at Taunton last year.
I am concentrating on the front garden as that is the part everyone see first.
I went for a walk in the fine rain Wednesday morning.
Saw these pretty flowers in the hedgerow on my walk
 |
| Lady's Smock in the hedgerow |
 |
| Lady's Smock in the hedgerow |
English Country Garden
How many kinds of sweet flowers grow
In an English country garden?
We'll tell you now of some that we know
Those we miss you'll surely pardon
Daffodils, heart's ease and flox
Meadowsweet and lady smocks
Gentain, lupine and tall hollihocks
Roses, foxgloves, snowdrops, blue forget-me-nots
In an English country garden
How many insects come here and go
In an English country garden?
We'll tell you now of some that we know
Those we miss you'll surely pardon
Fireflies, moths, gnats and bees
Spiders climbing in the trees
Butterflies drift in the gentle breeze
There are snakes, ants that sting
And other creeping things
In an English country garden
How many songbirds fly to and fro
In an English country garden?
We'll tell you now of some that we know
Those we miss you'll surely pardon
Bobolink, cuckoo and quail
Tanager and cardinal
Bluebird, lark, thrush and nightingale
There is joy in the spring
When the birds begin to sing
In an English country garden
(Some of the birds and insects are not English but we will forgive that......won't we....?)
This must be such a difficult time for you, Julie, it's understandable why you wouldn't feel like doing anything.
ReplyDeleteSending love and hugs. X
Oh Julie, I am sending you hugs, that poem, particularly this bit...He was my North, my South, my East and West,
ReplyDeleteMy working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong... struck home.
I find a lot of solace in gardening, and when I was at my darkest, even simple weeding seemed to get through. Sending love, Sending inner strength xxx
((hugest hugs) Julie, i'm not surprised its been a tough time for you. much love to you x
ReplyDeleteI found myself singing along to English Country Garden as I was reading it.
I am sorry that you had a difficult week Julie and so sorry for your loss. Don't stress about the garden. It will still be there when you feel like doing it again. Your tulips looks beautiful and indeed posh! I too was singing along to English Country Garden! x
ReplyDeleteThat Iris is stunning...they are like the most gorgeous velvet aren't they. Arilx
ReplyDelete