The older we get, the more precious the memories, do you agree ? Those terrible years of the Great depression followed by the worldwide destruction of war will forever bring tears to my eyes and a longing in my heart that knows no consolation ! The cost was too high, the loss too great. It engendered a new wave in poetry and literature, Plath, Pound, Masefield, Yeats, Steinbeck, Houseman. I’ve chosen to quote John Masefield. You’ve read about the English teacher who opened my mind and eyes, Lorena Fry, she worked in this country most of her adult life, was born and educated in England and returned home each summer and upon her retirement moved there permanently. Her family home abutted that of Masefield and according to her they were good friends ( I often thought she loved him, my girlish musings ! Woodstock ? ). I am sorry that she never knew how she broadened my life ! This is from “Tewkesbury Road” : “O, to feel the beat of the rain, and the homely smell of the earth, Is a tune for the blood to jig to, a joy past power of words; And the blessed green comely meadows are all a ripple with mirth At the noise of the lambs at play and the dear wild cry of the birds”.
John Masefield Please read this poetic genius and his words and dream !
Sincerely, Claire B.