One Day of Holidays in Waren, 2006

Every year my wife and I spend at least a few days with her parents in Waren, in Germany and the following poem depicts one of those hoildays in 2006.

One Day Of Holidays in Waren, 2006

Not laden at all with profound meaning
The words flow freely with consummate ease,
Unlike most poems of the past, heaving
Heavily of a soul pummelled and teased;
The radio is rattling on in German,
A language that I hardly understand;
My wife’s pottering around - she’s German,
House proud, efficient, and soap-sudded friend!
I am writing at random you know, not
With any rhyme or reason that is, but
To kill time with a modicum of wit
In a large room full of sunlight that is;
The weather has been quite irascible --
I would say most often cold, sometimes hot,
Sometimes absolutely impossible,
But, that is Europe, in case you forgot!
Wait a minute, I’m hearing my wife call,
The hot, ma-in-law-cooked lunch is ready,
She bawls; so run down with care, hands on the
Wall by the wooden stairs, so slippery
That one could trip and fall, so easily;
Soon I am settled in my usual chair,
At the well set dining-table that’s round,
In the well arranged dining-room that’s square,
Where softly the pa-in-law’s Bose Radio,
Emits day’s news in stereophonic sound;
All is quite well with Germany, I hear --
Economy is fine, unemployment’s
On shorter line; there should be no fear
That Schroeder has gone and Merkel is here;
Fear? O, but why, indeed, should there be
For a woman chancellored Germany,
Though the first time ever Fatherland has
Mother at the helm of its destiny?
Thus assured, with deep felt security
We pick up the monogrammed cutlery,
And with finely honed skill of decades old
We dissect the gravied roast delicately;
Then over conversation convivial,
Covering topics platitudinous,
Some one broaches ‘a horse-ride tomorrow’ --
Even horses need constitutionals!

Though not one born for horses, as they know,
I am still invited for photographs,
Which of ‘Feld und Wald’ I shall take, not half!
As away on horseback, riding they’ll go.
They’re prize-winners, the photographs I take,
Or so, of course, only assumed by me;
Do judge for yourself, they are on the Web --
Not for the plebs, but the cognoscenti!
I have gone on and on, O, goodness me!
It is well past noon and time for a nap,
Alarm for tea is set to half past three,
In a restaurant by the bakery;
Hot chocolate and cheesecake, naturally,
“Bad for blood-sugar”, I am told, “ Very!”
And I believe it, too, as time unfolds,
But friend, I am on holidays, you see!
Then, the rapturous fields of yellow rape
On a drive through the country-side go by,
Till it’s time for a lesson in German,
On German bread, cold-cuts and pumpkin pie;
Post dinner, the family sit and talk
Over wine, while I, as you may recall
The slippery stairs my hands on the wall,
Up to my room for CNN repair --
In the Philippines there’ll be hurricanes,
And the News ain’t good for Americans!
Sad! The busy day is over, it’s night,
On the whole, I’d say it’s been a delight;
My dearest wife will soon be in bed --
Better switch off the light and say, Good Night!




From THE UNSUNG LOG by Ronnie Patel (C) Ronnie Patel 2009