For Ivor: Raining Cats And Dogs: Brockhampton2,
![Image](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKovobGaY9bidzdHFNHrTFjs0fxv2I0hfyRcUfbCVV5HDjmYlGI-NDZGeh8xY0Pa00XPPU2IKztpvFr31XbD8vLPJg-cdRc_lhzAoh5Pppye74FgksAxYISLrh7UlS5NXatnMsnhS5Dkk-/s1600/IMG_1609.jpg)
For Ivor Nor trees; nor masts did I espy in Gloucester Docks; on a drizzled May day. Rather, afore me, a copper-coloured spiral candle, reaching upwards to join the sea-gulls lamenting the departed Gloucester brotherhood; who wore boots dripping in Flanders mud and gore. Looking down to my feet, an extract from your requiem for the fallen heroes. How wonderfully, bloody apt. Today I bought a shirt made in Vietnam and wondered at the absurdity of it all. I felt humbled,to have reached retirement age, without hearing a shot fired in anger. Unlike you, Dear Ivor. You were taken from Cotswold elm and beech to a battered tree-stumped landscape fashioned by trench warfare. No beauty here, no salve for the soul. Respite only through memories of Severn land. Then: a shell-shocked return with war-scared thoughts. Finally: withdrawn in '22 from the Shire. Removed from: Cotswold scarp and meadow-lands, But: ali...