Tuesday, 21 August 2012

Today an email came

part of an email from John

RE: Forgot to give you this‏

' Now you know how 'often' I wash my shirts, because this has just emerged from a pocket! When after I'd used the attached JE-evoking phrase you said "Will you write that down for me?" at Wicked Words on Aug 1st, I did your bidding so immediately that I forgot to hand it over after your appearance as Bonus Artist when Greg let you slip through the hat. You certainly didn't lose by his lapse,'

Oh TY Mr Hip Hep!

You are so kind; 
made my day with your e-missive.
You really did!
Fancy, clearing out the pockets before your shirts go in the wash.
So easily,
patches of sodden unreadable penned paper,
could have emerged scattered,
lost in the cast-out wash-day debris.
Then where would my soul have been today?

Think you have been well trained; man;
well versed in washing etiquette.
Do I sense the hand of a woman, 
or maybe legions of them,
behind this learnt 
dull but necessary, 
repeated, un-extraordinary, un-showy, 
preliminary (required) skill.
De-cluttering the pockets, 
clearing the way for the washing
before the suds are let loose
to trample the dirt from the shirt.

Thank you both, John and Susan,
together patching my memory back today,
with the e-copy sent
of the hand written note
John made
of a phrase 
he bright-eyed cast at me
at that wicked word poetry night.
Stitching a kindly spoken phrase,
back onto the shirt sleeve of a fleeting shared conversation
that meant so much to the labouring me.
Forgotten but not mislaid.
A phrase well met I trust.
'Let us move at his pace,
his rhythm is the tempo of wisdom' .


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