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A day in my life

Source: Adults

Author: Rhona Aitken

Title: Poetry at Beeching House v

I love to write poetry. I do it a lot; sometimes it seems to flow onto the page - other times nothing happens. My pen just won ‘t help me. When I was asked recently what I did with myself all day at my age (considerable!) - without giving my answer any considerable thought - I replied “Yes - I do ‘do’ something actually. I’m a poet.”

I’ve never said that before - my answer surprised me. It seemed a conceit. I wonder.

One day, sitting talking to a lovely lady who was having great trouble with her day-to-day memory, I mentioned poetry to her, and hardly had the word been uttered before she leant back in her chair and with a beautiful smile on her face - came out with every verse word-perfect of William Blake’s “Tyger, Tyger”. She was so pleased with herself that without drawing breath she followed it with “Abu Ben Adam - may his tribe increase”.

Her obvious delight gave me the idea that a Poetry afternoon would be a good thing. And it has been. People who had withdrawn very much into themselves and talked little - really blossomed. Before the first afternoon session was over we had taken people into their childhood and memories flooded back. We heard “Sea Fever”, Shakespeare, “The Lady of Shallot” and many more. All remembered - word for word. We even got them making up little verses of their own. They left to go down to supper with shining eyes and happy smiles. Apart from a love of verse, they had done the one thing that they had trouble doing, and that bothered them so much. They remembered.

I can say with great truth. Poetry and great age go so well together.

Published on writebuzz®: Adults > A day in my life

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