Hello Gill. I wonder whether starting at 'You came to tell me it was run,'
works for you? I've a feeling that there's enough in the rest of the poem
to suggest what's going on but maybe not...
bw
christina
----- Original Message -----
From: "Matt Merritt" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Thursday, July 06, 2006 2:18 PM
Subject: Re: new post. The Bath.
> Hi Gill,
> I think I agree with Liz that the first line seems a bit redundant, given
> the title - I think you could probably lose it entirely.
> The rest of the poem is lovely, though, and I especially liked
> "'Take your time', you said, and in that time
> I cruised islands of warm sand and soft ocean,
> woodlands moist with leaves and mist,
> summer days with bright red berries blinking out
> from golden straw,"
> It is a very difficult subject to write about, but I think the combination
> of a fresh angle and the first-hand experience and emotion really shine
> through here.
> Regards,
> Matt
>
>
>
>>From: Gill McEvoy <[log in to unmask]>
>>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>>To: [log in to unmask]
>>Subject: new post. The Bath.
>>Date: Wed, 5 Jul 2006 22:22:29 +0100
>>
>>I apologise to you all that I haven't posted/commented lately; been very
>>busy with the launch of "Uncertain Days" my first chap book. But it's
>>sailed away now, and I'm back to normal things again.
>>
>>This poem was written recently - and no doubt wants much improving - but
>>it comes from 6 years ago when I was so ill I was in the local Hospice for
>>a while, where a very kind Irish nurse gave me the best bath of my life!
>>
>>The Bath.
>>
>>The point of that bath was not to be clean -
>>I had gone nowhere but my bed and
>>was already washed.
>>You came to tell me it was run,
>>walked before me, your arms full of towels,
>>as if I were a lady and you my maid.
>>You helped me in, your hands tender for my safety;
>>I sank into a sweetness of heat and foam,
>>each burst bubble like a letting go of pain.
>>'Take your time', you said, and in that time
>> I cruised islands of warm sand and soft ocean,
>>woodlands moist with leaves and mist,
>>summer days with bright red berries blinking out
>>from golden straw, came back
>>to you wrapping me gently in hot towels.
>>It was like those nights of perfect sleep,
>>soft, starless, bliss.
>>
>>Gill McEvoy.
>>
>>I'd be very glad of comments.
>>
>
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