A Poem for Bernard
Who has the occult knack of materialising
When we need him most; like a wizard,
A pirate, or the fairy king in a pantomime.
Grinning, and with that twinkle in his eye,
He appears in doorways, denying his years,
laden with jars of pickles, home-made;
Tomatoes, rhubarb, pippins from his trees, in carriers, and
Balancing an improbable Geranium, in a pot.
Deus ex machina; before you even know it,
He has fixed the fire, patted the dog,
And fetches in the post
From off the mat, telling you tales of forges,
Mills and ships, illegal stills,
Fires and explosions on some Scottish beach.
Yes, we all need someone like that,
Who will come galloping over the pass
To cheer your dismal heart
With simple solutions
When the wheels have fallen off
Your fancy bandwagon.
Or pulling up outside in his Mercedes; thank God
He didn’t scare the neighbours shitless
By coming in that armoured car
He keeps in his old barn at home,
As he once threatened.
He, who has that gift, given previously
Only to super-heroes with xray vision
And symbols on their vests, of knowing when
He’s needed; cheeks as rubicund as apples,
Eyes merry and dancing.
Settling on the sofa, he puts down his sticks,
Fixes you with a look, and utters a brisk
“Now then”, stroking the cat:
The only symbols on his vest
Are the washing instructions, but nonetheless
Order is restored, the kettle sings.
Steve Rudd
Sat 8th Oct 2011 12:39
Hello, thanks for your comments.
Bernard actually exists, I met him when he was in the next bed to me in hospital and we kept in touch. He's a great character, 89 and still going strong, and he does have the knack of turning up just when he's needed - as he did the other day when I had been banging my head against the wall, spending time phoning up people who didn't care much if I lived or died.
And he does have an armoured car in his barn on the farm where he lives, it's a Ferret Scout Car that he's restoring. He also found a load of explosives when diving on a wreck off Mull and they tried setting it off on the beach to see if it would still ignite!
Disappointingly - from his point of view - it didn't, so they put it in an oil drum, under water, which apparently stabilises it, and he took it home. When he moved house, he thinks he forgot to take it with him to the farm, so if you hear a big bang from West Yorkshire, it means that the new owners have found it...