Remembering you


And we are at the three year anniversary of the death of my Granny Olga.

Olga, or Aryamati in her Buddhist Community and close circle of friends, as a writer, researcher, lecturer, poet, linguist and somehow managed to be a much loved Mum and Grandma to her family at the same time.

Today, I'd like to remember her by sharing with you two poems which she wrote about me.



"There are too few love poems now" said Carol Rumens

I didn't allow myself to hope

My character too odd for most

Days passed, weeks passed, and then months, some years

I made sad hobbies into pleasures.

Then suddenly in June she arrived

out on the dark, into the light

She looked with large brown serious eyes

as if her thoughts were deep and prized

I worshipped this queen: Isabelle

So lovely strange–my first grandchild.

To Isabelle

At two you piled your dolls' pushchair with books

Serious lover before the words dawned.

Later wrote comics to make your cousins now.

Now twelve, your black dress tempts your mum.

Your charcoals sketches speak joyful crudity:

Lusty lipsticked celeb, softly shaded skirt

Somewhere between shyness and sophistication

The astonishing grows.

Today, everyone who loves eccentric, enigmatic and compassionate Olga will remember her to

#tribute #poetry

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