You Ought To Write a Book

Talking with an interesting lady shortly before she passed away. This is not her story -- but it could have been------------

 

YOU OUGHT TO WRITE A BOOK

 

" You ought to write a book," I said

but she just smiled and shook her head;

"I haven’t lived enough to write."

Then she described her life down on the farm.

She spoke of the animals --- and the heat,

Of the flies -------- the drought -----

And burning wheat.

She told of flooded rivers

And drowning sheep.

And the joyful awakenings

To a clear blue sky!

Of the birth of chickens

And new growth of spring..

 

"You ought to write a book" I said

but she still smiled and shook her head.

"I don’t have anything important to say."

Then she spoke of her wedding day

And of two babies born and grown.

She told of rustlers who stole their sheep

And ---- why the postman died.

She recalled --- the day her husband left

When the children were just in their teens

And how she was forced to sell the farm!

She spoke of choking city fogs

and her fears for children country bred.

She wept, as she told

How they wandered the streets,

And of the way her daughter died.

And how her son took the vengeance trail

Killed the rapist -----

And went to jail ----

To die in the electric chair.

And how she

Could not weep .

 

"You ought to write a book" I said

she wiped her eyes and shook her head.

"No one wants to read my story." Then

She smiled and told how

Her life improved,

About the joy of a lottery win!

Her eyes shone as she described

The only holiday she’d ever known---------

The trip to Europe, The Snowy Swiss Alps,

How Ireland really is emerald green.

A foggy ride across the English Channel,

The helpful and friendly Gendarmes.

Her faded eyes twinkled as she recalled

The Italian who pinched her bottom!"

At my age too!"

She giggled like a girl.

 

Her lashes drifted down,

Rested against pale cheeks,

And once again

I wondered

At the tenacity of life.

A drip

Adjusted in the wrinkled arm

The Nurse

Gently stroked the grey curls

Before leaving the room.

 

Moonlight filtered through slatted blinds

Kissing the sleeping face.

Lasses raised and blue eyes opened wide

In pleased amazement.

"Why, you’re still here?" she smile

"Of course I am" I replied

and reached for her hand.

Frail fingers closed around mine

With a strength

That surprised.

 

"You ought to write a book" I said

her fingers tightened, and she shook her head.

"No one would be interested!"

Then she spoke of the time

Her plane was hijacked

Over the Indian Ocean!

How the smell of fear

Swept through the cabin where she sat,

Too terrified to move.

How the frightened cries of children

Added fuel to the anger

Of grenade holding maniacs,

And how mothers begged for mercy------

When there was none!

Ten people died that day, three of them under five.

She trembled as she recalled

How she froze -------

With a gun at her head;

Afraid to breath.

Of the explosive relief when demands were met

And the plane landed.

Then how

As the last passenger reached safety,

A fusillade of shots

Ended the terror;

Except for recurring dreams.

 

"You ought to write a book" I said

She smiled and shook her weary head.

"There isn’t any time" she sighed

then turned her face

and gently ---------

died.

 

 

ã Copyright JG 1986

Author's Note

Thoughts, views comments all welcome thanks.

Reviews

[Mallory Jen]

So very well done!
Holding my attention for that long is hard to do, but ah yes, you did! Beautiful and true.
Brovo!

[Lydia Shutter]

So many people underestimate the interest their lives would hold for others....and it is a shame. We can learn so much for listening to older people tell their stories. You have written a worthwhile tribute here. Lydia

[Tania Leigh]

Jen, this is an incredible poem....she may not have written the book, but she lives on through this piece.
Very, very, well done...I'm adding it to my favourites :-)

[BrightEyes]

Before I found another job - I used to visit a nursing home in town - the stories and tales those there had to tell! I remember the stories of my grandparents and how I wish I'd thought then to write them down - but I was young and just "too busy". what an excellent tale you've woven here - one that speaks of a life lived, an ordinary life filled with the extraordinary of a long-lived life. I loved this piece - full of nostalgia, regret, loss and "what ifs".

laura

[Dream Merchant]

Jen, awesome poem, you grabbed the reader immediately with this sad encounter of an old woman's life, as she speaks to you, she is actually writing that book, so not all is lost. This is excellent.

Ross

[Mark Pearce]

This is a wonderfully flowing story and it's so representative of the fact that we all feel that we don't have anything to say. I like the recurring phrase you use in the piece too. I do that same thing in my "Trees and Grasses."

There might be a few words and phrases that I would have done a bit differently, but the primary thing � the message � is sublime.

[Bryony Hicks]

This is probably the most emotional piece of work I have ever written. It's so emphathetic. I hope you continue to publish more of work. This poem is definately worth something special.

[Jenny Davis]

Excellent account of someone's life...she should have written a book for sure!
You wrote this in a style that is fantastic, I liked the repetitveness...it really packed its punch...
Loved it :)

[Phil Sanders]

Utterly, utterly brilliant .. superb imagery .. wonderfully written ...

[Nick Erickson]

Wow! .............................. Wow! ....................................... Wow! ..........................................
That was absolutely breathtaking, weaving one small fact of reality with the details of a life never lived. You did a brilliant job putting your thoughts and ideas to paper, the imagery and emotions so very real and vivid. I felt as though it was me in the room, listening the the lady speak about her life. It makes me want to write a story of my own life........... just in case something does happen.
Absolutely wonderful.
Well done!