Things at home have been difficult lately, with Bea having had to work a couple of weeks of late shifts (which entails coming home at 3am, when I’m fast asleep and not easily roused) and me having had a bit of a cough and cold. This week, though, I’m better and we’re managing to spend some proper time together; consequently we’ve lived what feels much more like a “normal” life, and slowly but surely everything is falling into place again. For some reason, as I typed that sentence the words from that wonderful W B Yeats poem sprang to mind… you know the one.
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Was that a little melodramatic? Probably, but I must admit it takes me back… A-Level English Literature, smoking behind the 6th-form block, those parties I was writing about the other day… 18 hour days seemed easy then!
I'll catch up with you all soon, I hope. In the meantime, the poem’s called The Second Coming. It really is one of my all-time favourites, by one of my all-time favourite poets... you could do worse than to check it out.
I'll catch up with you all soon, I hope. In the meantime, the poem’s called The Second Coming. It really is one of my all-time favourites, by one of my all-time favourite poets... you could do worse than to check it out.
No comments:
Post a Comment