Friday, 30 October 2009

One Year On

It's exactly a year since my wife said her last words to me - she was in intensive care and sedated for the last three weeks of her life. Her last words were - "You did that on purpose, you bugger!"

Which is a lovely way to remember a remarkable woman.

We used to read poems to each other - here's a bit of doggerel.

Brian and Laura

What a fucking happy pair we were!
To sit, at night, with telly off-
Reading Wilfred Owen to each other.

For light relief some Sylvia Plath -
Never Ted, cause he's too dark.
Some Rupert Brooke - or Donne for those black days
When life cannot bring forth its spark.

And then again - there is John Cooper Clarke.

1 comment:

Post what you like - I'm thick skinned and not easily offended (though Zionists may be deleted without mercy)