MEMORIAM

Crossing the Bar

  by

     Alfred Lord  Tennyson

Sunset and evening star,

And one clear call for me!

And may there be no moaning of the bar,

When I put out to sea,

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,

Too full for sound and foam,

When that which drew from out the boundless deep

Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,

And after that the dark!

And may there be no sadness of farewell,

When I embark;

For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place

The flood may bear me far,

I hope to see my Pilot face to face

When I have cross’d the bar.

 My good friend  Leslie crossed the bar yesterday, Sunday, October 18, 2009 at noon Chicago time.

Despite having gone to the same high school over 40 years ago, we had only become close within the last year.  Close as sisters we became, after I heard she was having her head shaved before chemo.  She did not want her lovely hair to come out in clumps.  So being not only  proactive but the bravest person I have ever known, she shaved her head.

Back in the day, high school to be exact, I envied her hair.  It  always looked so ...well..."done".  I e-mailed her and apologized for my previous covetous behavior.  As soon as the laughter subsided, we became friends for ever.

I have no words now, only tears. I have no thoughts tonight only the awful ache of grief that closes around me like a cloak and rocks me  from back to front in its grasp.  I am searching my friend the Internet for words of solace.  I do not find them.

One day, after the tears have dried and the ache inside has subsided, my inner poet will emerge. Iwill pen my own tribute to my friend.  Until then, Tennyson will have to do.  We could not be in finer company.

GODSPEED  MY FRIEND!

How sweet they sounded !

OCTOBER'S BRIGHT BLUE WEATHER

OCTOBER'S BRIGHT BLUE WEATHER


O suns and skies and clouds of June,
And flowers of June together,
Ye cannot rival for one hour
October's bright blue weather;

When loud the bumblebee makes haste,
Belated, thriftless vagrant,
And goldenrod is dying fast,
And lanes with grapes are fragrant;

When gentians roll their fingers tight
To save them for the morning,
And chestnuts fall from satin burrs
Without a sound of warning;

When on the ground red apples lie
In piles like jewels shining,
And redder still on old stone walls
Are leaves of woodbine twining;

When all the lovely wayside things
Their white-winged seeds are sowing,
And in the fields still green and fair,
Late aftermaths are growing;

When springs run low, and on the brooks,
In idle golden freighting,
Bright leaves sink noiseless in the hush
Of woods, for winter waiting;

When comrades seek sweet country haunts,
By twos and twos together,
And count like misers, hour by hour,
October's bright blue weather.

O sun and skies and flowers of June,
Count all your boasts together,
Love loveth best of all the year
October's bright blue weather.

Helen Hunt Jackson

What more needs to be said?

I think this poem appeared in my 4th grade English book entitled Prose and Poetry. It sums up the first of October very well


But then I found this in A CALENDAR OF SONNETS also by Helen Hunt Jackson.

CALENDAR OF SONNETS: OCTOBER

The month of carnival of all the year,
When Nature lets the wild earth go its way,
And spend whole seasons on a single day.
The spring-time holds her white and purple dear;
October, lavish, flaunts them far and near;
The summer charily her reds doth lay
Like jewels on her costliest array;
October, scornful, burns them on a bier.
The winter hoards his pearls of frost in sign
Of kingdom: whiter pearls than winter knew,
Oar empress wore, in Egypt's ancient line,
October, feasting 'neath her dome of blue,
Drinks at a single draught, slow filtered through
Sunshiny air, as in a tingling wine!