"THE TROUBLE WITH GERANIUMS IS THAT...."
She did not know
how it had come to be
but she was having toast
and tea with Titus Groan!
Mervyn Peake appeared
to have drawn himself
with pen and ink
the very essence of his creation
as if he had stepped forth
from his book.
The man himself
in flesh and blood.
A living caricature.
Mervyn said nothing.
Just stared into the depths
of who he was
lost in himself.
Her boyfriend said nothing
depressed beyond belief.
She said nothing.
Too young and too naive.
Sitting with Steerpike
as it were or
in a candle flicker
now with Mr Pye.
She picked up a slice of toast.
Bit into his words.
"The trouble with my toast is that
it’s far too full of bread."
The echo of his voice
lost inside her head.
Inside him, she
could hear him say
"The trouble with my looking-glass
is that it shows me, me."
"Must you..?" he seemed to say
"Keep up an intimate conversation...
by quoting
myself to me."
The silence stretched and
stretched until it snapped
back into a tiny sound
the ****** of a spoon on china
bringing time
to an end.
The moment going on
forever despite what
time had to say.
We all silent now
the 77th Earl of Groan
...fallen asleep.
***
My wife Janice as a young art student went to tea with Mr. Peake who was very very ill at the time.
Aug 17, 2021
Aug 17, 2021 at 6:03 PM UTC
"THE TROUBLE WITH GERANIUMS IS THAT...."
She did not know
how it had come to be
but she was having toast
and tea with Titus Groan!
Mervyn Peake appeared
to have drawn himself
with pen and ink
the very essence of his creation
as if he had stepped forth
from his book.
The man himself
in flesh and blood.
A living caricature.
Mervyn said nothing.
Just stared into the depths
of who he was
lost in himself.
Her boyfriend said nothing
depressed beyond belief.
She said nothing.
Too young and too naive.
Sitting with Steerpike
as it were or
in a candle flicker
now with Mr Pye.
She picked up a slice of toast.
Bit into his words.
"The trouble with my toast is that
it’s far too full of bread."
The echo of his voice
lost inside her head.
Inside him, she
could hear him say
"The trouble with my looking-glass
is that it shows me, me."
"Must you..?" he seemed to say
"Keep up an intimate conversation...
by quoting
myself to me."
The silence stretched and
stretched until it snapped
back into a tiny sound
the ****** of a spoon on china
bringing time
to an end.
The moment going on
forever despite what
time had to say.
We all silent now
the 77th Earl of Groan
...fallen asleep.
***
My wife Janice as a young art student went to tea with Mr. Peake who was very very ill at the time.
