Sunday, 31 July 2011

Saturday ... "not waving but drowning" ...

I am wrung out - 
words, words, words; never-ending
articles, proposals, reviews,
blogs, diaries, journals,
word-spills, word whispers
and lists, interminable lists
of things that have to be done.
I suddenly stop, come
to a breathing space
and am like a cloth squeezed dry
a limp rag doll
eyes blind, flaxen hair a-straggle,
and all creativity deserts me.

We eat again in the garden,
a warm, still evening,
one of many in this blissful summer
that has all but escaped me;
my wine glass is empty,
our grandson's warring cockerels
are at rest ....
Tomorrow, Oxford.

Them, come Monday,
the treadmill will begin again.
And yet I love what I am doing,
Hauling bucketsful of words
from a well that may have run dry.
I trust it is not so; for without words
we would go hungry, the body and the soul.


  1. Yes, I think I can picture you in that garden, with wine glass in hand, enjoying the peace and quiet. Your love of words is evident and I am sure your well will never dry.

  2. Phew! How exhausting, Ann.

  3. for without words
    we would go hungry, the body and the soul.

    How true is that?! ♥

  4. O'h Ann you must be so tired but in a very good way.

  5. "hauling bucketsful of words from a well that may have run dry" wonderful. I would say you are living life to the fullest. Good that you have a peaceful respite time now and again. i love that Stevie Smith poem too.

  6. Thankyou all so much for your comforting words; the well is refilling, I can feel it, and am so grateful for the encouragement of friends.

  7. Oh, I have got here a bit later than others whose comments said better than I could what I wished to say.

    Living life...feeling full, and even ... after a rest, feeling happy to be refilled. Such are the good times our lives can give us. Enjoy the feeling of having that well refilled. xo

  8. I could feel the exhaustion in your poem, but it is good to know that the words are still flowing and that you are energised again!

  9. I could definitely relate to this one. For me, the words sometimes come so quickly they nearly slosh out of the bucket. Other times I sit wringing the cloth until a few words consent to drop out for me. Your images are lovely.