The Country Celebrant | Writing Poetry

Bringing recollections to life through words.

When I was a teenager I was introduced the The Wasteland by T S Eliot.  I remember having the most wonderful time studying the imagery and analysing the poet’s intent and losing myself in his words and the pictures that they created.  I wanted to make a film of the poem and when I close my eyes I can still see the ideas that I had as a response to the poetry.

Now I am able to revisit my poetry books, to look again at the words that say so much and conjure up such imagery and to use the poetry to create ceremonies for so many different occasions.
In recent weeks I have had the chance to write my own poems; it is bizarre how pleasurable it is to craft a memorial for a person in the form of a poem.  I have written a number of poems for a variety of events and although they are not, in any way, as accomplished as the poetry of real poets; they help to make my ceremonies intensely personal.

Cyan blue and white flowers

Colour – by The Country Celebrant

When I think of you, I see the rainbow
set out on a palette to mix and daub
the paper that hangs on the easel.

I see the cyan blue of your artwork,
tulips and grasses white against the evening sky
and woodland creatures gazing at the moon.

I see magenta flowers mainly sweet peas full of scent
tied with rough sisal string and mixed with herbs
to make a gift that smells divine.

When I think of you, I see silver wire and discs
of silver cut and thread onto chain
in a pattern that says I value you.

I see pale pink and gossamer fairy wings,
gentle hands nurturing a child’s imagination,
lost in their dreams with them, smiling and nodding.

When I think of you, I see piercing blue eyes
the colour of iced water and forget-me-nots.
Eyes that laugh and crinkle at their sides.

I see necklaces of beads from far off lands,
spicy colours and warm colours
worn with casual elegance and style.

I remember you in the yellow warmth of the sun
in the grey drizzle of a wet afternoon
and in the purple of a winter’s night.

I will keep your colours bright and shining
for your children to use and treasure
on the palette that is your legacy.

It is such a pleasure to write and to help people to recall those that they have lost through the spoken word.


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