The Grampound Times
Easter 2007 (Edition 44)
Our community in Cornwall
Say One for Me
Times’ readers will already know that I find it almost impossible to complete any edition without including in it a poem from DAVID PROWSE. In addition to his published books, of which I have three, very many of his poems have been included in the Plymouth based Western Independent Newspaper and he has had fairly regular spots reading his work on Radio Cornwall. I think he is brilliant as his words reach right to the heart of the subjects he writes about.
Ifeel I am a somewhat unfortunate person as far as gardening is concerned - I love gardens but get no pleasure from the task of working in one! DAVID PROWSE is I believe a gardener by profession, working at the St. Teresa Residential Home near Penzance, an establishment set up by the late Group Captain Cheshire.
Please enjoy the following poem which I have extracted with permission from his book entitled “SAY ONE FOR ME” and it is also entitled
“SAY ONE FOR ME”
When I’m down on my haunches, at war with the weeds,
I can bet with a confident air
That, sooner or later, I’ll hear someone call,
“Hey, say one for me while you’re there”.
It’s a slice of light humour I acknowledge in kind
With a wave and a smile on my face,
Yet often there’s more than a semblance of truth
In what they suggest is the case.
What else would I do, with these human constraints
That my limited talent confers
But pray for a miracle time after time
And, time after time, it occurs.
From the smallest of seeds, from the tiniest corm,
From a speck that the eyes barely see
Comes tangible, burgeoning, beauteous life
Owing little or nothing to me.
I never designed or created its form
Nor pencilled the veins on its leaves
Or fashioned its petals, like butterfly wings
Enfolded in chrysalis sleeves.
Mine is the lab our and mine is the faith
But mine is the ultimate debt,
Alone, I have only the tools of my trade
And I need all the help I can get.
So the next time you see me with knees to the ground
Attending to business affairs,
Walk lightly, speak softly, make believe you’re in church
The gardener is saying his prayers.
© 2006 Grampound with Creed Parish Council