Do You Remember?

Hello everyone

I've been away for a while. I know that many but not all of you have forgotten all about me.

Not all of you because some of you are my most dear friends.

But for those who have forgotten me, here is a reminder of, and for any new visitors that may come along, here is an introduction to, my writing.

This extract comes from my Walking With Poetry.

When she eventually turned to look at me again, she was somehow different. Even her voice was different. It was calmer and more self-assured.

"So, if you're a poetry teacher, as you say, then surely you should be able to recite a poem to me right now. Not just any poem. One that will tell me what real poetry is all about."

I studied her through squinted eyes. It dawned on me, that she had just asked a most significant question.
"Do you mean that you want me to reveal to you the holy grail of all poems?"
"Yes, that's just about it. Come on Mr. Teacher."

Acting on an impulse, I walked over to her and went down on one knee. As I looked up into her eyes, I saw for the first time how dark brown they were. I had to however, close my own

eyes for a moment as I tried to visualise how Sir Laurence Olivier would have acted on such a situation. Then I cleared my throat a little theatrically.

"How can you write when you haven't lived?
How can you live if you haven't seen a dancing trout?

How can you dance
If you haven't seen a deer at play?
How can you sing
If you haven't seen the place where music was born?"

Her eyes had grown larger. It was as if she was beginning to see me for the first time.
"Wow, that’s really good, Dinel, but please don't be a fool now. Don't kneel in front of me. Go and sit on that rock over there."
Her words were a great relief to me. I don't think that I could've kept resting my knee on those sharp rocks for much longer
"Go on, Dinel, finish your poem. You have my interest."
With a polite nod, I acknowledged both her appreciation and her gentle command.

"These hands of mine can write because, I've held a wriggling fish. My eyes can see because they've watched as eagles mate and my ears can hear
because they've heard a tiger purr."

"Aha. You're saying that I can't write poetry because I haven't held a wriggling fish in my hands? When will I ever be able to do that, you silly man?"

I rose quickly to my feet and held out my hands to her in a gesture of appeal.
"In my school, you will learn that, Alisha. Come with me and let's walk through that wood. OK, it's a 25 kilometers walk but we'll get to your college by tomorrow afternoon. The train will only get there by late tomorrow night. It really takes a long time to get to its destination. It's all those winding curves that make the train slow down and then there's that long wait for the connection."