1481
Thoughts from the Isle of Wight
A sudden shower, we dive into the tea room,
But it soon stops and sun breaks though the clouds;
The guide is telling children of lemurs
Gibbons, squirrel monkeys and meercats
While fathers fret the lack of internet
And mothers sort out snacks and fizzy drinks.
The park is pleasant, wide vistas and the space
To wander round the enclosures where the apes
Sit and eat, or spa in mock aggression
Till, on an instant, they stop and scratch, before
Carefully picking out and eating fleas,
Owls in single cages sit and wait
For closing time when moonlight will entice
Small rodents to erupt across the floor,
Unsuspecting snacks for eagle eyes
Alert to every movement way below.
Close by, the Garlic Farm sits on a site
Which has been tilled for close three thousand years,
First families on the Isle grew wheat and sheep
Roamed across the downlands to the sea.
Swallows skim across the fields which held
The villages and homes of settlers
Arriving long before Roman or Celt
Their thoughts and language close beyond the sight
Of standing stone or barrow on the height,
I hear grasshoppers somewhere near my feet
And cabbage whites hover along the runs
Of wild flowers lingering below the hedge.
Clouds may darken distant hills but here
The dappled sunlight smiles upon the land
And all is happy in the drowsy heat.
And you? Where are you in all of this?
The clichés of the summer indicate
That all is well within this rural world
Dedicated to the visitor
Or passing tourist, content to spend their time
Within the showers of an August day.
Last year's temperatures eased out the thought
And for a moment we could simply hope
Heat might become the norm for holidays
But here it rains enough that we recall
Summer's always been a fickle friend.
So do we complain and blame you for
The changes we experience hour by hour,
The sudden flash of sunlight or downpour
Between the passing clouds and chilly eves?
We could, but it would be a waste of time
Frustrating for ourselves and not a wit
Effective to ameliorate the wash
Conflicting passions pummel at our brains
When all we really need is to accept
That what is, is, and then let it rest
Knowing your love's working for the best.
Brian Hick August 2015
©copyright Sally Hick 1.7.26
