Showing posts with label Freedom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Freedom. Show all posts

Sunday, 13 May 2012

Bilbo – A Hamster's Tail

Image: Bilbo by Elanor Buchanan

Last night my daughter’s hamster, ‘Bilbo’ died. He had lived a fair life for a hamster and his passing was not wholly unexpected. He was buried under a rose bush in our garden and in keeping with his name Elanor read the following words from J.R.R. Tolkien’s ‘The Lord of the Rings.’ over his grave.

‘End? No, the journey doesn't end here. Death is just another path... One that we all must take. The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass... And then you see it………White shores... and beyond, a far green country under a swift sunrise.’

I must admit that Bilbo’s passing seemed to affect me more than it did Elanor, who had been expecting him to die as he was very old for his breed. I kept feeling jealous of Bilbo as he has moved on, whilst I remain here trapped in a pain riddled body longing for an end to my current life.

Before I reveal my poem I should explain the references to the Lord of the Rings. Both Elanor and I have a great love for these books, indeed Elanor’s own name is derived from Tolkien’s ‘The Return of the King’, when at the end of the book Frodo suggests Sam’s daughter should be named after a flower in keeping with the old custom in the Shire. Sam agrees, but says; ‘if it’s to be a flower-name, then I don’t trouble about the length; it must be a beautiful flower, because, you see, I think she is very beautiful, and is going to be beutifuller still.’

Frodo suggested the name ‘Elanor’ after the sun-star, the little golden flower in the grass of Lothlόrien, both Sam and I agreed.

And so to the poem;

Bilbo – A Hamster's Tail

Sometime during the night
the rhythmic tapping ceased.
That irritating, yet somehow comforting pulse
that played every night; stopped.

The nocturnal cacophony;
click, click, click of the water bottle valve,
grate of enamel on bars, rattle of a turning wheel.
These barriers to sleep; ended.

Snuggled quietly in its den
the soft, sand coloured fur became still.
No longer did it trap the warmth that rose from within.
The warm bloods circulation; ceased.

There, on a star filled night,
while the cats prowled the house and garden,
and the family and the dog slept peacefully,
Bilbo the Syrian hamster; died.

The sun rose into a clear blue sky,
A sand coloured body was buried under the rose bush,
as for Bilbo; he sees; ‘White shores... and beyond,
a far green country under a swift sunrise.’

John Carré Buchanan
13 May 2012

Wednesday, 9 May 2012

Liberation Day

The Guernsey Flag

Today Guernsey is celebrating Liberation day. I would like to take this opportunity to wish all Sarnians around the world a very happy 67th Liberation Day.

Liberation Day

A flag flies free
Over Sarnia chérie
Williams Gold Cross
On the red of St George
Enrich the beautiful blue sky
As they dance on a breeze up high

Our Elders remember when it was not so
when an imposter deigned to overthrow
When the red, black and white
Proclaimed German might.
Five years oppression
and depression

Then came the red white and blue
to bid the Germans adieu.
and from that day
the ninth of May
is celebrated every year
and on Liberation day Sarnians raise a cheer.

John Carré Buchanan
09 May 2012

Tuesday, 10 January 2012

Birdsong


Over the last few years the pain in my right leg has worsened to the point where walking, even with the aid of two sticks has become too painful. Despite having worked extremely hard to retain the ability to walk, the distance I have been able to endure has slowly decreased.

Towards the end of December I borrowed a wheelchair from a friend. I was not eager to do this as it could be seen as quitting, but I had the feeling that it might just offer me something I had been missing.

During the last week I have been out for several ‘wheels’ (walks or pushes) and I have learnt that the chair brings me two valuable gifts. The first is the ability to exercise and burn off some of the weight I have accumulated through comfort eating. Secondly and perhaps more importantly the chair gives me the ability to get out and about.

The chair will not be a permanent feature of my life, but rather than another tool I can use to battle the demon that is CRPS.

I wrote this poem to celebrate my return from one such wheel. Please feel free to leave a comment.

Birdsong

Sweet music envelopes my soul
it soothes away tension
and warms a heart, that pain
cooled and hardened.

I sit in a country lane
and listen to birds
as they sing of freedom amidst
the branches of leaf stripped trees.

At home two sticks rest.
Today a wheelchair bore me
to a place I could not reach
and for a while, bought me freedom.

John Carré Buchanan
10 January 2012