ME

ME

Sunday, February 19, 2012

three poems for Helen

 

                                 THAT DAY (for Helen)


                                  That day we found each other,
or perhaps the day
found us.

Though neither of us knew
what we were looking for,
a clasp of hands, an affirmation

of each others presence -
meant more
than either of us knew.

That day we found
each other -
and suddenly we knew.


          Malcolm Evison

TRANSFORMED
(for Helen)


Right now I feel
the urge to scream
forget the aching limbs

dance deftly
on the brim
of my emotions.

Right now
I feel the lure of love
the light

that breaches
my stoical defence.
I see your face

I glow with joy -
right now
there is no you or I

as we rejoice.

Right now I am
alive with you -
I feel -

imbibe the air of this
our perfect world.



                                      Malcolm Evison

 
EMBRACE


Wrapped in each other                     
we break illusions
of our separateness.

As bodies merge
we lose location
finding our place

in vaster schemes.
Thanksgiving, sanctified
with each embrace,

transmits a joy
beyond our reckonings.
Today

love knows no bounds.



                                Malcolm Evison

twelve years on


Today is the twelfth anniversary of my marriage to Helen; on the one hand it seems amazing that all those years have passed and yet, at the same time, it feels as if we’ve always known one another. Not a day goes by that we don’t express our love for one another both verbally and (hopefully) by our actions.

Although during this time I’ve succumbed to moderate ME (an unwelcome intruder since 2003) and sundry other, probably related, chronic conditions, I can still say in all honesty these have been the best years of my life. It’s almost impossible to imagine any quality of life where we are not together.

Thursday, February 09, 2012

plus ca change

One soon tires of broadcasting their bad health news, hence the paucity of postings over recent days; I await some positive bright notes with which to intersperse my ailing prose.



In so many ways I feel blessed, adoring and being adored by ma belle, having the wherewithal to keep reasonably warm regardless of what the elements have in store and, constantly being charmed and uplifted by the variety of avian visitors to the garden. What a privilege it is living relatively close to a town centre whilst, from my fireside chair, I can observe a gliding circling red kite, a charm of goldfinches embracing the nyjer seed feeders, and a bullfinch refreshing itself at the birdbath. Flurries of sparrows bound to and fro from shrubbery to feeders, as blackbirds turn over leaf-mould, amidst the reluctantly thawing residue of last weekends snow fall, at the far end of the garden.



Aches and pains in the lower limbs have been less frequent visitors during recent weeks but, those in armpit and upper arm still manage to unnerve me with their accompanying symptoms of nausea and griping crushing sensation in shoulders and rib-cage.



Having finished my large dose of antibiotics to sort out a little diverticular infection, a week last Monday, I was somewhat disappointed when the griping spasms and far too regular explosive evacuations once again took control earlier this week - a type of hyperactivity that drastically interferes with any more normal (socializing) activity. I'm just hoping that a combination of mebeverine and loperamide will enable a swift resolution.