Jill,

Thank you.

I'm glad that you enjoyed your visit.

Roger

Britain’s Crowded Isles

(c) Roger Macdivitt     2009

Unlike some virgin lands, no footstep sees

These crowded isles midst field and trees

All trodden, crossed, ploughed and plundered

“Was any inch spared” I often wondered

For in every valley, stream and hedge

Man’s presence here a visible privilege

No field unturned, no path untrodden

From sunbaked hill to valley, sodden

To mountain ridge and lofty crag

Where man is humbled by wild stag

Southern uplands rise tree-free

From lowland forest or from the sea

Crowded, still with hints of wildness

This kingdom hides well it’s ancient stillness

Which found suprisingly in city square

Solitude still can be found there

Still pigeons strut and sparrows flock

And so it’s been since world war shock

An island with others, large and small

With troubled history overall

But, held together by mingled blood

Of centuries toil, sweat and mud

Still a miracle of nature’s best

Preserved, defiled but still at rest

Unique in climate for northern climes

The moderation, wet, warm defines

That wherever you stand to look and wonder

The green stolen, from the pallets plunder

And no matter how far I care to roam

There’s no place better to call my home.

Questions of Chivalry

Roger Macdivitt 2009 ©

“Is chivalry really dead?”, I wondered

Are feminine weaknesses to be ignored?

Am I no longer expected to consider her different?

I enjoyed the smile that I gained when I held the door

I enjoyed the interaction

She might have been far too beautiful, unobtainable

But I could still offer a seat

Are those days gone, when I could lift a hat and say,

“Good Morning”?

Say it without being ignored, sharing a respect

What happened to that respect anyway?

Not for me that strident and drunken huntress

I like demure, I like vulnerable

Yes, she can do that dirty or heavy job

But why would she want to?

I can lift that weight, carry that bag

I can say, “after you”

I can lay my coat across puddles

I can offer my umbrella

Has nobody the time to sit a lady at at table?

No time to open the car door?

No time to help a damsel?

No time to be a gentleman?

Why are those female secrets so openly aired?

Why do we all need to know

Why is there no need for courtship?

No need for the coyness I loved?

If I offer a rose to a stranger

What reaction should I expect?

What role for the man who doesn’t understand

When his gestures go un-noticed, unwanted?

When children leave home for the very last time

A mother feels her  days without purpose

When a man loses that feeling of protection

He feels days without purpose too

No, I want to ride up

On my charger and offer the earth

To plight my troth and seek her hand

And protect her from ogres and dragons

I know that we change with the times

That we need to be equal in spirit

But can we hold back that all swamping tide

For just a few years at least?

After all I have limited time

To make my intentions clear

Oh can we hold back till I see just one moresmile?

After all I am 63

Sir Roger