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U3A Writing: Timewarp. (Chemotherapy)

Dire straights can yield memorable words.

Read Paddy Webb's profoundly moving poem - and marvel!

Time looses relevance;
Night hours suspended in moonlight
Marked by the slow tick of the clock
Going nowhere as the world turns.
The floating call of an owl
Drifts in starlight.

A bird stirs;
Bat-light has darkened,
Owl-light faded into grey,
Bird-time comes with the mist of dawn.

How does a wren have so much energy?
I can see him, his whole body
Quivering with the effort of his song.

Days loose their pattern, even names.
Day one of the tablets is day two of the cycle,
Pills control the progression of the hours;
Before meals, during, after. Only one thing
Is certain:
Painkillers take twenty minutes to work.

My fragile bubble drifts and spins
And on day eight
Blind furies reach out their shears,
Sever the puppet strings of my legs.
Space too is relative,
From chair to door is a thousand miles.

A breath of air spins my capsule.
My treat is to ride to a favourite place
Where the wild stretch of moor and sky
Is reflected, upside down in dark water
The walking is easy here.
Near by is a secret place
Where purple red orchids reach up
Above bee-murmured vetch.
The path is clear through the grass
But, perhaps,
The meadow only exists
When I reach the fence, and turn.

I wish I could thank the man
Who invented the telephone.
Through a spider's web of minute threads
Tiny tremors reach me from the outside world

Bringing pictures and news more vivid
Than on a television screen.
My ears become my eyes on the world.
These silver threads are strong enough
To hold me safe through deep waters.
They tether me to the world
So that I know I am still there
In real time.


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