A Poet's Blog: Roger N.Taber shares his thoughts & poems...

Thoughts and observations by English poet Roger N. Taber, a retired librarian and poet-novelist.- "Ethnicity, Religion, Gender, Sexuality ... these are but parts of a whole. It is the whole that counts." RNT [NB While I have no wish to create a social network, I will always reply to critical emails about my poetry. Contact: rogertab@aol.com].

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Location: London, United Kingdom

Sadly, a bad fall in 2012 has left me with a mobility problem, and being diagnosed with prostate cancer the same year hasn't helped, but I get out and about with my trusty walking stick as much as I can, take each day as it comes and try to keep looking on the bright(er) side of life. Many of my poems reflect the need to nurture a positive-thinking mindset whatever life throws at us.

Tuesday 13 December 2011

A Robin's Take On Winter


Now, regular readers will know that I love the villanelle poetic form almost as much as I love robins...

Once, when I woke one Christmas Day and was feeling sorry for myself as I’d be spending the first Christmas on my own since my partner died, I heard the sweetest sound. When I pulled back the curtains, it was to find a fat robin singing its heart out on my windowsill, its red breast bursting with a pride and joy that touched me as no other birdsong has before or since. Unperturbed by my presence behind the glass, the bird I still think of as ‘my’ robin did not instantly fly off, but stayed as if to treat me to the performance of a lifetime.


We had little together, my partner and I, but I can look back on them with pride and joy rather than despair for never having found anyone with whom I wanted to share my life ever again; we were evergreen kindred spirits, and he will always be a part of me. It could have been so different, that Christmas, but for ‘my’ robin not only reminding me that life goes on even during wintry days, but also there is beauty to be had there, and not to be missed.

This poem is a villanelle.

A ROBIN’S TAKE ON WINTER

Among stoic evergreen, a robin’s peeping,
singing in answer to a snowman’s call;
world weeping, Earth Mother but sleeping

Hungry winter days, a fine harvest reaping
of summer’s illusions autumn let pile;
among stoic evergreen, a robin’s peeping

If Heaven. its duty watch, faithfully keeping,
why do its tears freeze even as they fall?
World weeping, Earth Mother but sleeping

Bleak though the landscape, albinos leaping
like children grabbing time to be playful;
among stoic evergreen, a robin’s peeping,

Where a silvery twilight stealthily creeping,
interlopers quick to grab its treasure haul,
world weeping, Earth Mother but sleeping

As sand in a hourglass relentlessly seeping
via cracks in some amateur’s crystal ball,
among stoic evergreen, a robin’s peeping;
world weeping, Earth Mother but sleeping
 
Copyright R. N. Taber 2011





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