Photograph of Spencer at work inCookham Village … by WHB . . . 1957
Stanley Spencer, CBE RA (1891 – 1959)was an English painter. Shortly after leaving the Slade School of Art, Spencer became well known for his paintings depicting Biblical scenes occurring as if in Cookham, the small village beside the River Thames where he was born and spent much of his life. Wikipedia
The sleepers awake from an imagined death A teasing adventure in insubstantial earth
Pram pusher extraordinaire in the Village that lit up his life inspired his vision Trundled easel hearse put to work in progress To see, to feel, to breathe destiny on the village green The past become the present resurrected in tranquillity Life-lite under the churchyard yew this moulded flesh – full featured bringing joy from the stern grave Life’s resurrection imagined in hope and the churchyard in his eyes and his pigment Drawn and deified Death and Resurrection as Spring As buttercups in the greenest of fields.
The sleepers awake from an imagined death A pleasing adventure in insubstantial earth
Stanley Spencer: ‘The Resurrection, Cobham … 1924-27. Tate Gallery
Cometh the day Cometh the ban Yet another deprivation Another death for motivation Covid Nine still running wild Meaning for us Nothing good Nothing mild Just another tight restriction This is now life It is not fiction
I tell my family they cannot come They are not surprised They do not blanche Just another faded chance Not something else to life enhance
Will I one day Look back and say When this black cloud has blown away I lived through covid Took its measure Saw it off Without a cough Survived to tell new generations How grandad lived through such privations Knuckled down Obeyed the rules Derided all those other fools Who didn’t care Who took it easy Yet also lived to tell the tale
I can’t help but think With a nod and a wink Life’s still worth living D. V. – God Willing.
as more mute shadows come and go so my life does ebb and flow clinging disturbingly with my every motion not prepared to let me go until at some time not yet determined in the day’s misty murkiness I will merge with the darkness along with life’s shrouded meaning to await that time which surely will arrive for the putting out of the light and the beginning of death’s adventure