June 22, 2017

 

 

The Book

Poems of Love Life & Loss

by Harriet Blackbury

can be found

in the ‘Adult Section’

of

The Poetry Library

at 

The Southbank Centre

London

 

 

 

 

I rescued a Fatsia Japonica today

that sat begging for help

on the clearance tray

of the Garden Centre

up Blackbury way.

 

Some of it’s leaves were withered

in hopelessness,

whilst others discoloured –

a brownish mess.

 

But I was drawn to it’s plight,

and it’s challenge to survive,

spotting three young branches

keeping it’s hopes alive.

 

The instructions on feeding

read ‘easy care’,

but of it’s limited life

I was quite aware.

 

So fooling myself,

it got put in my trolley –

praying it would last four days,

as friends coming for ‘a Jolly’.

 

And at the cost of £2

I thought ‘great value indeed-

I’ll take you to death

if you don’t succeed’.

 

And your final hours

will have been worthwhile,

because Fatsia Japonica,

you will have made us all smile.

 

 

 

 

Oh, how we’ve worried

about the unexplained,

that came to light

when hearts were drained.

 

Oh, how we’ve puzzled

and felt so much guilt,

since discovering your life

inside the fortress you built.

 

Oh, how did it happen –

the double life you knew?

So gradual the mountain

becoming normality to you.

 

Oh, how did you cope

and put on that fine show,

trapped and boxed in

to that hell down below,

 

Oh, how did you function

when madness on trial?

Was that your release valve –

a laugh and a smile?

 

Oh, how did we not see

your anguish and stress,

which now seems so obvious

when we think and address.

 

Oh, how you were supportive –

A firm friend and true,

as one by one we unburdened

our troubles onto you.

 

Oh, how did you not scream

and yell and blow your top,

and tell us our selfishness

just had to stop?

 

Oh, how could you listen

with such loyalty and trust?

Did it even the score seeing,

another mind going bust?

 

Oh how? we ask now

when too late we digest,

glaring signs that were missed –

now in peace may you rest.

 

Oh, how lessons too late

have surely been learnt.

What starts out as a favour,

can see fingers burnt.

 

Oh, how easy to be known

and yet not known at all.

We missed warning signals –

pride comes before a fall.

 

Oh, how we’ll see others differently

from this moment on.

There’s real pain under the surface

of just about everyone.