One year is fast approaching, and I can hardly believe it. While some things have gotten easier, other things feel like they've gotten more difficult. It is a long road, as I have been told by those who have been through it. And as I've said many times before, I'm so very thankful for my Colin, who keeps the joy alive in my heart.
I've always loved this poem, although it is sad. It really expresses the feelings of a person who has lost their partner in life. I've also posted the video clip of the poem being read in the film "Four Weddings and a Funeral". I like the way John Hannah reads it here.
Funeral Blues
by WH Auden
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone.
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling in the sky the message "He is Dead",
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun.
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
I've always loved this poem, although it is sad. It really expresses the feelings of a person who has lost their partner in life. I've also posted the video clip of the poem being read in the film "Four Weddings and a Funeral". I like the way John Hannah reads it here.
Funeral Blues
by WH Auden
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone.
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling in the sky the message "He is Dead",
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun.
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
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