Dennis and the Soil
- matturbo1111
- Oct 23, 2014
- 2 min read
On a day when I wasn't really 'Poem for Suffolk-ing', I came across a man whose life was a poem. Although Suffolk was only a small part of it, it does count.
It was while I was leading some workshops as part of Creative Activity Day - Living Well with Dementia - at the Museum of East Anglian Life in Stowmarket. So, this was aimed at people with early onset dementia within Suffolk and their partners/carers and other professionals and providers. People who aren't usually expecting to write poetry. Who have probably gone their whole life without writing a poem. My favourite crowd.
Dennis arrived in a wheelchair and was very soon one of the the stars of the show. He was an Irishman, eighty-five years young, with a quick wit and a sparkle in his eye. We were writing about houses that we lived in but Dennis wanted to tell me about his allotment. It was his favourite place and you could see his enthusiasm for it. He made people laugh with his poem too. It was only after the session that I wished I'd asked him more. How did an Irishman come to live in Suffolk? So I was delighted when I came across him at lunchtime out by the picnic tables. 'Let me tell you all about it', he said and, as there were no chairs left, I sat down on the grass and took notes as fast as I could. This was wet grass too. The finished poem is a companion piece to his own 'On My Tiny Allotment', which you'll also find below.
DENNIS AND THE SOIL
Came over to London at twenty-five, sixty years ago
from southern Ireland. Worked in the rain on buildings
then settled down, didn’t want to be in lodgings.
Married for 53 years, an English woman,
the best in the country. She died, only sixty-eight.
On my own for 15 years – done all the cooking,
the washing, the gardening, the allotment. Came here
about ten months ago, never been here before.
Sold my house in London. I wouldn’t go upstairs (my legs)
and went to live with my daughter in Thetford.
They had a double garage, made it into a room for me
and you want to see that, what they did for me
a big room, bed, brand new everything.
But I didn’t like the place. Too private
nobody talks to each other. Could be there all day
no-one to talk to. That’s why I came here.
So I’ll be here for good. I don’t mind it now.
And the soil is the best here isn’t it?
Where I come from it’s all clay. And in Harrow
it was heavy. But in Suffolk, Christ, it’s lovely.
ON MY TINY ALLOTMENT
Digging, weeding
planting all the seeds
wearing overalls
in the summertime bugger all really
sun shining, plum trees
and apple trees blooming
cars and foxes
planes and crows overhead
thinking about
what we are having for dinner
thinking about the wife
and if she is alright at home.
Dennis
