LOVE POEMS
Poems About Love, that have come from a spirit, maybe ?
THE BOX
Did you ever forget your birthday ?
A short story.
This entire year, for me, has been full of guidance, messages and lucky occurrences,
some of which may have saved my life. [long story]
The bit, that I want to explain to you involves some coincidences. I will now go back to
2011, when I was totally absorbed, in the full time occupation, of looking after Joyce. I
really did not know, sometimes, what day it was. I had little sleep, because I was working
in my kitchen, at night, trying to work out glass sizes and manufacturing sheets, for my
business of Ross Windows.
I had an appointment to give a quotation to some old friends and customers, who live
close by. I had Barbara, who we know from Country and Western Dancing, a Heaven Sent
Friend, who used to sit with Joyce, when I went out and I arranged to see these people, on
one of Barbara’s Days. The day was Tuesday 18th. October. I carried out a survey for a fairly
large contract and I wrote down the date as 17th. October. As I wrote the date down, I said,
“it’s my birthday today”. I was then given a cheque, for a deposit. The date on the cheque
was 18th.October. I suddenly realised, that my birthday had come and gone, without me
realising. I found this quite amusing, but quite easy to do, under the circumstances.
Joyce, my wife died, just over a month later, on Monday, 21st. November, 2011.
So now, I shall fast forward to 20th. July, 2013, when I was in Normandy. I had been asked to
make a BOX, which had to match two plant containers. I had designed the BOX and provided a
very simple, technical type drawing. The lady, that I was working for, then proceeded to criticise
my design and gave me a three dimensional sketch, with new dimensions. She also gave me some
very vivid instructions, on just how I should go about making this BOX. So I proceeded to assemble
this BOX, which was a cosmetic cover, for a pair of gas bottles. The bottles were about two feet high.
I made her write down all the dimensions, because I already knew, that the job would be a complete
disaster, to put it politely.
I spent the entire day of Saturday, 20th. July, 2013, assembling this BOX. One of a carpenter’s golden
rules is always keep offering the job up. So I pinned the BOX together, the best way I could with the
tools, that I had, which were somewhat limited. I then put the BOX in position over the gas bottles.
I could not complete it, as we had run out of wood, but I managed to improvise a reasonable BOX.
The lady, then came and inspected my BOX. She decided, that it was too big, so I showed her a copy,
of the dimensions that she had given me. The BOX ended up being placed at the back of her garage.
The following day was Sunday 21st. July. At the time, I was not aware of these dates, I just knew, that
it was Sunday. I thought to myself, that it must be Joyce’s 70th. birthday about now. Her date of birth
is 20th. July. I then checked the date, only to realise, that her birthday had come and gone. I spent her
entire birthday, making that BOX. This reminded of the time, that I missed my birthday and I was once
again amused by these circumstances.
I kept asking myself, why had all this had happened. I found myself thinking , that Joyce may have wanted
me to postpone her Birthday. Whenever we had a special birthday, we would usually have a party at the
Rushall Club, which is near to Weston’s Cider Factory, where we go dancing.
I returned to England shortly after all this. I travelled back the following Thursday and I was home in the
early hours of Friday morning. I then needed to have a good sleep, after such a long journey, which included
five hours on the Le Havre Ferry, with two dogs in my little Ford Focus. I was more alive on Saturday, so I went
out to a dance, that evening, at our local community centre. I later discovered, that there had been a dance
at Rushall Club and I thought I may have missed a Birthday Party, because the organiser has a Birthday, about
this time. When Joyce was alive, we would often arrange to have our parties together. I later found out, that
an Irish Performer was supposed to be coming, but he was unable to make it to the event, so a quiet night was
had by all. I never did find out who the singer was, other than there was still a nice dance.
Once again Joyce’s Birthday had been postponed. Barbara has her birthday in July. I still dance with Barbara,
but she can little more than shuffle. No energetic dancing. I had met a nice lady, before I went to France. She was
a MEDIUM and told me about Fields of Buttercups and Horses etc. I went to help at a farm, which normally cares
for retired Horses, belonging to the Brigitte Bardot Foundation and the fields there were full of Buttercups. Since I
returned to England, I have become quite friendly with this Lady. She also had an Australian friend, who had come
over to stay with her.
As a result of this friendship I was invited to a Birthday Party. Both these ladies are celebrating their 70th. Birthday.
They are having their party together. The party was at a Village Hall, which is close to where I used to live, when
Joyce was still alive. I have been to two dances at this Hall, on both occasions, with Joyce. One of these dances was
to celebrate a Birthday. I then found out, that the one of these ladies, had her birthday, on the same day, that Joyce
died. I remember looking at the Balloons and the Birthday Cake in the corner and everything suddenly dropped into
place. I have been told, that a BOX, has a symbolic meaning. It can be a place to store all your problems. If the box is
left behind, then so are your problems. Maybe a BOX can also be a place to keep something, until a later date. The
lady I made the BOX for also celebrates her 70th. Birthday this year. There is a message somewhere here, but I can’t
quite work it out, maybe I never will, but I have feeling, that another message is still to come. Another piece to the
jigsaw puzzle.
When I was driving home, from the party, I went by the River, where Joyce’s Ashes were scattered. As I went by, some
words entered into my head. PERPETUAL MOTION. It was the title for my next Sonnet. So I went home and wrote it,
Poems About Love, that have come from a spirit, maybe ?
THE BOX
Did you ever forget your birthday ?
A short story.
This entire year, for me, has been full of guidance, messages and lucky occurrences,
some of which may have saved my life. [long story]
The bit, that I want to explain to you involves some coincidences. I will now go back to
2011, when I was totally absorbed, in the full time occupation, of looking after Joyce. I
really did not know, sometimes, what day it was. I had little sleep, because I was working
in my kitchen, at night, trying to work out glass sizes and manufacturing sheets, for my
business of Ross Windows.
I had an appointment to give a quotation to some old friends and customers, who live
close by. I had Barbara, who we know from Country and Western Dancing, a Heaven Sent
Friend, who used to sit with Joyce, when I went out and I arranged to see these people, on
one of Barbara’s Days. The day was Tuesday 18th. October. I carried out a survey for a fairly
large contract and I wrote down the date as 17th. October. As I wrote the date down, I said,
“it’s my birthday today”. I was then given a cheque, for a deposit. The date on the cheque
was 18th.October. I suddenly realised, that my birthday had come and gone, without me
realising. I found this quite amusing, but quite easy to do, under the circumstances.
Joyce, my wife died, just over a month later, on Monday, 21st. November, 2011.
So now, I shall fast forward to 20th. July, 2013, when I was in Normandy. I had been asked to
make a BOX, which had to match two plant containers. I had designed the BOX and provided a
very simple, technical type drawing. The lady, that I was working for, then proceeded to criticise
my design and gave me a three dimensional sketch, with new dimensions. She also gave me some
very vivid instructions, on just how I should go about making this BOX. So I proceeded to assemble
this BOX, which was a cosmetic cover, for a pair of gas bottles. The bottles were about two feet high.
I made her write down all the dimensions, because I already knew, that the job would be a complete
disaster, to put it politely.
I spent the entire day of Saturday, 20th. July, 2013, assembling this BOX. One of a carpenter’s golden
rules is always keep offering the job up. So I pinned the BOX together, the best way I could with the
tools, that I had, which were somewhat limited. I then put the BOX in position over the gas bottles.
I could not complete it, as we had run out of wood, but I managed to improvise a reasonable BOX.
The lady, then came and inspected my BOX. She decided, that it was too big, so I showed her a copy,
of the dimensions that she had given me. The BOX ended up being placed at the back of her garage.
The following day was Sunday 21st. July. At the time, I was not aware of these dates, I just knew, that
it was Sunday. I thought to myself, that it must be Joyce’s 70th. birthday about now. Her date of birth
is 20th. July. I then checked the date, only to realise, that her birthday had come and gone. I spent her
entire birthday, making that BOX. This reminded of the time, that I missed my birthday and I was once
again amused by these circumstances.
I kept asking myself, why had all this had happened. I found myself thinking , that Joyce may have wanted
me to postpone her Birthday. Whenever we had a special birthday, we would usually have a party at the
Rushall Club, which is near to Weston’s Cider Factory, where we go dancing.
I returned to England shortly after all this. I travelled back the following Thursday and I was home in the
early hours of Friday morning. I then needed to have a good sleep, after such a long journey, which included
five hours on the Le Havre Ferry, with two dogs in my little Ford Focus. I was more alive on Saturday, so I went
out to a dance, that evening, at our local community centre. I later discovered, that there had been a dance
at Rushall Club and I thought I may have missed a Birthday Party, because the organiser has a Birthday, about
this time. When Joyce was alive, we would often arrange to have our parties together. I later found out, that
an Irish Performer was supposed to be coming, but he was unable to make it to the event, so a quiet night was
had by all. I never did find out who the singer was, other than there was still a nice dance.
Once again Joyce’s Birthday had been postponed. Barbara has her birthday in July. I still dance with Barbara,
but she can little more than shuffle. No energetic dancing. I had met a nice lady, before I went to France. She was
a MEDIUM and told me about Fields of Buttercups and Horses etc. I went to help at a farm, which normally cares
for retired Horses, belonging to the Brigitte Bardot Foundation and the fields there were full of Buttercups. Since I
returned to England, I have become quite friendly with this Lady. She also had an Australian friend, who had come
over to stay with her.
As a result of this friendship I was invited to a Birthday Party. Both these ladies are celebrating their 70th. Birthday.
They are having their party together. The party was at a Village Hall, which is close to where I used to live, when
Joyce was still alive. I have been to two dances at this Hall, on both occasions, with Joyce. One of these dances was
to celebrate a Birthday. I then found out, that the one of these ladies, had her birthday, on the same day, that Joyce
died. I remember looking at the Balloons and the Birthday Cake in the corner and everything suddenly dropped into
place. I have been told, that a BOX, has a symbolic meaning. It can be a place to store all your problems. If the box is
left behind, then so are your problems. Maybe a BOX can also be a place to keep something, until a later date. The
lady I made the BOX for also celebrates her 70th. Birthday this year. There is a message somewhere here, but I can’t
quite work it out, maybe I never will, but I have feeling, that another message is still to come. Another piece to the
jigsaw puzzle.
When I was driving home, from the party, I went by the River, where Joyce’s Ashes were scattered. As I went by, some
words entered into my head. PERPETUAL MOTION. It was the title for my next Sonnet. So I went home and wrote it,
before I went to bed. I finished at 3-00am.
SO THIS IS ONE WAY, HOW TO MAKE A POEM.
LOVE’S PERPETUAL MOTION
Life is just like the seasons of the year.
We all have a beginning and an end.
I have a secret love to me so dear,
That her reputation, I must defend.
When I think of her, my heart starts to race.
When I see her, I think I’m in heaven.
She lives her life with a tremendous grace,
That at her end she would be arisen.
Such a beautiful person, must return,
To fill the void, her life has created.
No other spirit, could replace this yearn,
For, such goodness will be reinstated.
If you are lucky for such love to see,
Then it is an Angel, that she must be.
By Ray Lavin. 15th.September,2013.
Cheers !! Ray.
