Ruminations

Ruminations Before I'm pitched into the grave I want to revisit lupins by the Dee I want to savour lilac in a lane I want to lie with bluebells in a wood I want to rest beside a field of corn Before death slaps my little life in the face I want to pick the maggots off regrets Scrape the past away Like sweat from a gladiator's flanks Before I change into a ghost I want to talk to horses about the seasons Discuss with cows the meaning of acceptance Compare the cruelties of humans with the family cat I have fallen through life like Icarus Feathers singed and melted by the sun When I was a child I was dusted by my mother like a doll An object, one of many in the house When I was a child I slipped, skewered on a shard of glass A cruel deflowering Some nights my years dance round a bonfire Thoughts crawl over a page like cockroaches I have clattered through life Like shoes, tied behind a wedding car Now, I'm an old fat bumble bee, Creeping along, wings wet with morning dew When I'm pitched into the grave My little days will float into the sky Like blue balloons To pop above the soaring flight of swifts Homage to Haddo: Tune; Twa Recruitin Serjeants Stroll on the dewy walks of Haddo's lands The wildflower meadow, the great lime trees The 2nd Earl raised the great mansion house Here William Gordon would take his ease This William was known as the Wicked Earl He kept one wife and two concubines And reared three Gordon families Sturdy children from the Gordon loins The Wicked Earl bought the lands of Gight His son, George lived in the castle there But when he tumbled from his horse Gight learned the meaning of despair Young Byron's mother Catherine Gordon lived In Gight, fulfilling the prophecy When the herons there left their heronry A Gordon of Gight she would landless be The fourth earl built three wondrous lakes Became Prime minister of the land He welcomed Victoria as a guest And Philip Kemble of the acting band South west he raised an obelisk In memory of his brother, the aide de camp Of Wellington, who died at Waterloo Two brothers from the same illustrious stamp The 7th Earl, a marquess, built a hall For the community, a chapel too A great entrance hall, with panels rare Of Aesop's fables a bonnie view Dip into Haddo's chequered history In ww2 served Maternity And far and wide in the music world Is Haddo's choral society Such treaures they are kept within this house The coronation robes, the four post bed Victoria slept in, and most bitter-sweet A lock of hair from Scots Queen Mary's head Stuffed birds from glass cages peer about Birds fly past hides out in Haddo's grounds Whole families in the play park take the air At Haddo beauty knows no earthly bounds The library is wood with cedar inlaid With ivory, with Greek & Latin books Stand ranged on the shelves like soldiery And priceless furnishings in shady nooks The walls of Haddo house are blessed with Art Paintings by Raeburn, Anthony Van Dyke The Raphael Madonna has no peer No gallery nearby can boast the like At Haddo you'll see Shakespearean plays on stage Perhaps watch falconry, or archery Hear opera, concerts, childrens' theatre shows With craft fairs, picnics beside flower and tree And if you delve down into history here Lord Haddo's raid on Aberdeen was famed He seized the provost, ransacked city homes And was beheaded..thus his ways were tamed Another Gordon Lord, a dreaded chief In Covenanting times, his wealth he slid In Hagberry pot at Gight to keep it safe And trouble over, sought it where ‘twas hid The diver he sent down to bring it back Was drowned in that deep pool, oh so black He feared to rise up empty handed, for his Lord So fierce in wrath, had lost his precious hoard Sensory garden, Haddo's pheasantry Squirrel otter badger fox and deer Bats, marsh orchids, aspen and birch Haddo' s cornucopia throughout the year #death