It’s pretty safe to say that my love of writing has never included writing poetry; in the same way my love of reading has never included reading anything at all. If my memory serves me right, the last poem I read wasn’t even in English, it was The Aeneid by Virgil; normally that would be the cue for some feeble attempt at a Thunderbirds joke, but I’m going to be strong….
That said you can have two bonus points if you know Parker’s first name.
There are so many types of poetry, and when I saw that one form consisted of just three lines (Haiku… bless you), I thought that would be perfect; but given the fact that the underlying theme of the challenges is mental health awareness I have decided to take this seriously and try to express how a condition called dysthymia has affected my life.
The poem’s title represents both the random nature of mental illness, and also (in part) the free-form composition that follows; the “someone” is (of course) Elaine—and the conclusion is intended to reflect the amazing difference she has made… and continues to make every single day.
I have literally no idea whether these twenty-one lines are even remotely half decent or just total rubbish, but I did give them a great deal of thought and found them very hard—both emotionally and to any degree of technicality—to write; and I’m comfortable that my endeavours equate to “challenge completed”.
I will therefore leave the final word on the background to my attempt at poetry to Virgil (the Publius Vergilius Maro version, not the resident International Rescue poet-turned-pilot) with a couple of short but apt lines from one of the books in his aforementioned work: “Quis talia fando temperet a lacrimis?”
“And who can hear this tale without a tear….”
And the final, final word to Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward’s trusty butler and chauffeur: “My name is Aloysius, m’Lady.”