Have you ever written a poem or a story and if so do you still have it?

I have always liked to write, I remember back to elementary school when I first found out the excitement of putting your thoughts onto paper and creating lasting ‘stories’. That creative type of writing has waxed and waned over the years as other things in life have taken precedence. All the years that Mum & Dad ( and Mum & Pop Burslem) were alive I wrote a letter ‘home’ every week. Sometimes it was an expectation which came around all too quickly, but we knew that they looked forward to our weekly letters, and they wrote back to us.

For me it was a quiet moment in the week to reflect the happenings and share the achievements and the challenges, of family life. Sometimes I wish I had saved their letters - or that they had saved ours - it would have been an amazing record of the saga of our family over all those years, from 1969 when I first came to Canada through to 2003 when Mum died, she wrote almost to the end. Nowadays I guess this ‘Storyworth’ project allows me to indulge this pleasure tho as you know, my offerings can be a bit erratic.

As for poetry (as opposed to prose) I can only ever remember being creatively moved to write poetry twice……that is if you take away the rhyming ’clues’ for Easter egg hunts! Both times were times when I had no other thoughts in my head but of the moment, maybe that explains why it has only happened twice in my life… that may be a sad inditement. The first time was when I spent some time exploring the Border Country in Scotland in my old Ford Popular, I was travelling on my own and had with Toady’s freedom of the road I ended up at Hermitage Castle.

Wikipedia says: ’Hermitage Castle is a semi-ruined castle in the border region of Scotland. The castle has a reputation, both from its history and its appearance, as one of the most sinister and atmospheric in Scotland.’ Sadly, somewhere along the way since, my efforts were round filed, although I do remember feeling at the time that I had written something that had ‘feeling’. The second and only other time I was moved to poesy was sometime after I had had conversations with a patient who was recovering from a life changing stroke.

He was of our First Nations and had a very animist philosophy. I remember sitting on the beach, he had told me that beaches have a sacred meaning…... where elements meet…..at sunset and feeling that I needed to consolidate some thoughts. I did and felt well pleased with my ‘poetry’ … now here’s the thing, I had never shared it, and was about to do so now……but I can’t find it!!! so you’ll just have to picture the skill and wordsmithing that went into it.

Much later........ I have just found it...... No title..... There is a place Where in the sacred harmony Of time and tide and shore, The evening light of summer Softens, blends And fades Into the hues of dusk and night.

A drop, a sound, a call, Infinitesmal change, then The return to endless constancy. Eternal synchrony of day and season Are anchored, Fixed by the immutable strength of the earth. R.