TRIP TO HISTORICAL BATH POEM 14

In a harsh clime only a few survive. The Winter chill is not so bad here, but the days are shorter and life continues despite tragedy of death and even natural disaster. People soldier on and continue their own personal battle with the restrictions of COVID-19 and the repercussions of a world-wide pandemic.

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The springs, the summers, and the autumns slowly pass; And when old Winter puts his blank face to the glass, I shall close all my shutters, pull the curtains tight, And build me stately palaces by candlelight.” Charles Baudelaire

Before Us

There is no rest my dear for we are travellers,

We walk along the bank and see the scenery,

Familiar and yet unfamiliar scented by a

Different salt and varying only by style.

There is no love in this town,

Nor was there love in our previous jaunt,

Bewildered the scene repents its lusty spring,

Holding its last with spine and deep roots.

A broader leaf cannot be sustained in the Winter,

So here we conserve our spirit and rejoice in the

Victories of life over the harsh bitter chill,

For there is life yet for the bold should we take it.

Before us there were me much like us,

Their chastened hands bore sword and shield,

An arrogant brash course it was and yet,

They found their majesty amongst such as these.

“No animal, according to the rules of animal-etiquette, is ever expected to do anything strenuous, or heroic, or even moderately active during the off-season of winter.” Kenneth Grahame