Bread and Music
by Conrad Aikken
Music I heard with you was more than music,
And bread I broke with you was more than bread;
Now that I am without you, all is desolate;
All that was once so beautiful is dead.
Your hands once touched this table and this silver,
And I have seen your fingers hold this glass.
These things do not remember you, belovèd,
And yet your touch upon them will not pass.
For it was in my heart you moved among them,
And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes;
And in my heart they will remember always,—
They knew you once, O beautiful and wise.
by Conrad Aikken
Music I heard with you was more than music,
And bread I broke with you was more than bread;
Now that I am without you, all is desolate;
All that was once so beautiful is dead.
Your hands once touched this table and this silver,
And I have seen your fingers hold this glass.
These things do not remember you, belovèd,
And yet your touch upon them will not pass.
For it was in my heart you moved among them,
And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes;
And in my heart they will remember always,—
They knew you once, O beautiful and wise.
Isn’t that lovely?
Sorry to be so late posting, I had an idea for the book,
decided to quickly jot it down and next thing I know, it’s noon and I haven’t
posted to Killer Hobbies.
Yesterday I was sitting out on our balcony, which has
petunias and geraniums in pots, and here came a humming bird, the variety with
a shining green body. I haven’t seen one
close up in a long time, so I sat quietly as it went patiently from bloom to
bloom. At one point it was mere inches
from my right knee, and seemed to be unafraid, or maybe unaware – delightful!
Knit Your Own Murder
is coming to an end. One problem: it’s
short. Not desperately short, but I
think it’s going to come in at barely 70,000 words instead of 80,000. I could press in another couple hundred words,
a few here and a few there, but 10,000?
I don’t think so. Besides, I
think it’s close to time this puppy went to my editor.
Reminder: This
Saturday I’ll be in Excelsior, sitting in Excelsior Bay Books’ outdoor booth,
helping celebrate Apple Days. Look for
me from nine to eleven. I’ll be the one
wearing a hat.
And advance notice:
September 29 is Michaelmas, the Feast of St. Michael and All
Angels. If you eat goose at Michaelmas,
you won’t want for money for a year. We’ve
been doing it for over thirty years, and while it hasn’t made us rich, it has
pretty much stopped those fiscal emergencies that make a misery of modern life. One big problem: geese are expensive. One of my sisters solves that problem by
serving goose pate and crackers.
6 comments:
Thank goodness you finally posted today. I get so worried about you when I can't find you on Tuesdays. Get the book finished. I really want to read it. Best wishes.
I'm touched at your concern. Thank you for worrying about me.
It's great to get so wrapped up in writing that everything else disappears for a while! As a superstition advocate these days, I enjoyed hearing about your eating goose at Michaelmas. And isn't it fun when birds come for a visit?
You've finished it? Wonderful! I still hope you'll be able to include the pattern for Sophie, the shop's cat.
Yes, the book will include a knitting pattern of a cat we're calling Sophie. LOL
I love watching hummingbirds. We get quite a few in our yard. After all the problems you've had with your book, I'm sure you will be glad to finish it.
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