This morning we received this lovely poem from Anne Grange, due to attend a retreat at Tŷ Newydd over Easter that we unfortunately had to cancel. Thank you for sharing, Anne, and for lifting our spirits.
If I inhale, I’m actually there,
Just before dinner time.
Tony has cooked up a treat.
Scouse, his signature dish –
Vegetables in a rich gravy;
Chocolate cake for pudding.
Chatting to him earlier,
About his vegan recipes –
Taking a writing break;
A melt-in- the-mouth Anzac biscuit.
I settle back on the squashy white sofa,
Legs stretched out, balancing my laptop.
Facing the garden and the sea.
Fresh spring air fills the room
With the scents of spring;
The deep silence of the library walls
Letting in small, friendly noises –
Led Zeppelin leaks in from the kitchen speakers;
A gull cries as it crosses the hazy sky;
A blue tit chitters from sycamore tree branches.
The sea is a vague blue stripe that blends with the clouds;
The land on the other side of the bay is a wash of green.
Sometimes you can make out detail; houses, cars.
I know this view so well; the sea below the fields,
Past the sweep of the garden,
The copper beech; the magnolia in bloom;
The blackbird that hops across the lawn
Towards the giant chair.
I leave the laptop on the sofa;
Stand in the bay window to take in the view,
Under the echo that we play with while reading our work
To the others in the evenings, soft with wine
As the view fades into darkness.
I will return to this room,
I tell the echo.