Dido

DIDO.


A very dear friend who inspired me.
Sadly I haven't seen her for nine years.
A Multiple Sclerosis sufferer,a lady who battled on.
An Artist who lived in London and Norway.
A person I think of regularly:every time I wear the Fur hat she brought back from Norway.
I do so hope you are still with us Dido.

Dido I take the liberty of posting some of your work,that you kindly gave me.


Getting on

Memory slips on the cogwheel of time,
Most of this morning's events have gone away.
Schooldays,young days,repopulate their places,
Happier times relived,and lives more real.

Hearing withdraws into its silent shell,
Leaving her vulnerable,alone,
Echoes of voices,carriage wheels revolving,
Bring her to happier times,to times more real.

Vision becomes another cruel trickster,
Deserts and blurs the scene she knows so well.
The teenage face reflected in her mirror,
Shows her the time ago when all was clear.

Movement slows down,it hesitates and pauses,
Stiffness and pain imprison every nerve,
Jumping the crashing waves,dreamrunning
Over the sunlight sand,she reaches peace.

Written by Dido.
May 2000.


You were a catalyst to me.