A change for you

I found this poem in amongst all the letters I was sorting through in the autumn. It's another one sent to me from my mother and fits with Friday's quote.

Black March by Stevie Smith

I have a friend

At the end 

Of the world,

His name is a breath

Of fresh air.

He is dressed in 

Grey chiffon. At least

I think it is chiffon.

It has a 

Peculiar look, like smoke.

It wraps him around

It blows out of place

It conceals him

I have not seen his face,

But I have seen his eyes, they are

As pretty and bright

As raindrops on black twigs

In March, and heard him say.

I am a breath

Of fresh air for you, a change

By and by.

Black March I call him

Because of his eyes

Being like March raindrops

On black twigs

(such a pretty time when the sky

Behind black twigs can be seen

Stretched out in one

Uninterrupted

Cambridge blue as cold as snow.)

But this friend

Whatever his new names I give him

Is an old friend. He says:

Whatever names you give me

I am

A breath of fresh air,

A change for you.

Stevie Smith

Her pearls, her satin train

It took me a long time to read The Ladies of Lyndon finally I finished it. There's alot about marriage in it and as it's the anniversary of our first date and engagement I thought we'd have these passages.

The silence in which she drove with her father to the church was comforting and lovely.

John, handsome and competent as ever, waited for her at the chancel steps, and at the sight of his cheerful self-possession she became more collected. While the clergyman was haranguing them about those carnal lusts of which the bride is supposed to know nothing, she reflected composedly that John ought really to be married as often as possible, he did it so well.

waiting

As she returned down the aisle Mendelson's triumph seemed to epitomise her own satisfaction in her beautiful behaviour. She had quitted the maiden state becomingly.

flowers

They had drawn up before the Cocks's door, triumphant with its gala awning and crimson carpet. It was flung wide by beaming maidservants and John handed Agatha and her lilies, her pearls, her satin train and lace veil, out of the car.

She was already rather tired of hearing her new name.

bride

John twitched her train into becoming folds round her feet and assumed the posture of happy groom at her side.

happy

"I've not crushed your flowers," he murmured in her ear as a bevvy of bridesmaids flocked into the room. "Isn't that exemplary in a bridegroom?" Margaret Kennedy The Ladies of Lyndon

crushed

It's like Tiffany's

'It's a little inconvenient, his not having a name. But I haven't any right to give him one: he'll have to wait until he belongs to somebody. We just sort of took up by the river one day, we don't belong to each other: he's an independent, and so am I. I don't want to own anything until I know that I've found the place where me and things belong together. I'm not quite sure where that is just yet. But I know what it's like.' She smiled, and let the cat drop to the floor. 'It's like Tiffany's...' Truman Capote Breakfast at Tiffany's



Tiffany's

Over on Florence Finds Breakfast at Tiffany's is being discussed. Do pop over read and add your thoughts...

I hear your name

This post started out being about my name. My two names written in the front cover of A Room With A View, the fact that after this holiday I shall get round to changing my name on my passport. And so this poem would be used. But.... it changed. Reading this poem in the light of the novel I could just imagine George saying Lucy's name over and over again.
So, this poem is for George and Lucy.

Name

When did your name
change from a proper noun
to a charm?

Its three vowels
like jewels
on the thread of my breath.

Its consonants
brushing my mouth
like a kiss.

I love your name.
I say it again and again
.............

I pray it
into the night
till its letters are light.

I hear your name
rhyming, rhyming,
rhyming with everything.

Carol Ann Duffy

name

The Crucible

Having been to see The Crucible at Regent's Park Open Air Theatre for my birthday I've been mulling over what to write about it....
There was no stand out line for me but lots of thoughts. Thoughts about how John and Elizabeth Proctor's relationship is portrayed and developed throughout. Amidst all the chaos I found that touching, reaffirming about love.

It's the final scene where John Proctor is being asked to sign his name to his confession that really stayed with me and had me pondering.

'Because it is my name! Because I cannot have another in my life!... How may I live without my name? I have given you my soul; leave me my name!' Arthur Miller

I've willingly, happily chosen to change my name since getting married. Yet it is strange. My passport isn't changed (yet) and it felt strange booking in on holiday under two different names. Yet.... my birthday cards arrived with Mrs T. on them. Who is this woman? At work I tend to just use my christian name when introducing myself. I don't want the fuss. It also feels strange introducing myself as Mrs T. But the place it seems strangest is the place I least expected it. I've always written my name and the date I read the book in the inside cover (there's a whole other post about why). To write my maiden name seems wrong - but somehow to write my new surname isn't me either. So for this year I've just written my christian name. I think it seems strangest here because it's such a personal relationship with books - they're inside your mind your soul and that hasn't changed one bit.

image unknown

Another unfinished thought but...

What are your thoughts? Your experiences?