I thought we'd have a quiet post for today, a sort of virtual silence with the merest whisper of a heartfelt poem from
Killed in action at the Battle of Arras in 1917.
Edward Thomas has my poetry heart at the moment and I am finding it hard to imagine quite what such a gentle, nature-loving soul made of trench warfare.
So I'm reading his wife Helen's book Under Storm's Wing to get a clearer picture of Edward Thomas
the man, the husband and the father.
All is never as you expect and I sense it was Helen who made many sacrifices to enable her man to be the man he was and the one that we think we know.
And I think Edward Thomas knew that too.
And You, Helen
And you, Helen, what should I give you?
So many things I would give you
Had I an infinite great store
Offered me and I stood before
To choose. I would give you youth,
All kinds of loveliness and truth,
A clear eye as good as mine,
Lands, waters, flowers, wine,
As many children as your heart
Might wish for, a far better art
Than mine can be, all you have lost
Upon the travelling waters tossed,
Or given to me. If I could choose
Freely in that great treasure-house
Anything from any shelf,
I would give you back yourself,
And power to discriminate
What you want and want it not too late,
Many fair days free from care
And heart to enjoy both foul and fair,
And myself, too, if I could find
Where it lay hidden and it proved kind.