grasping at straws

Sometimes, by Sheenagh Pugh

.

Sometimes things don’t go, after all,

from bad to worse.  Some years, muscadel

faces down frost; green thrives; the crops don’t fail,

sometimes a man aims high, and all goes well.

.

A people sometimes will step back from war;

elect an honest man; decide they care

enough,  that they can’t leave some stranger poor.

Some men become what they were born for.

.

Sometimes our best efforts do not go

amiss;  sometimes we do as we mean to.

The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow

that seemed hard frozen:  may it happen for you.

.

Wishful thinking, for the day after the UK budget announcement.

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15 thoughts on “grasping at straws”

  1. What a lovely poem. I like the way it seems to speak of happenstance till the very end, and am a little disappointed by the ‘may it happen for you’ that suggests faith and will, but will reread it right now nonetheless…

  2. There now: you’ve cheered me up, Fiona. You remind me strongly of the lessons I’ve learned doing Cognitive Behavioural Therapy: our feelings may tell us everything goes awfully much of the time: but look at the evidence and one realises everything happens somewhere on a continuum; sometimes things go well, sometimes not so much.

    1. Glad to be of service 🙂
      CBT gets a bad name in the ME/CFS world, because it’s promoted as a cure, but I’ve found it very useful. Not a cure, or a problem solver, but useful.

  3. I love this poem, Fiona. The tone is open to possibility, with a strong eye still on reality. You’re right that so there’s an abundance of rubbish and nonsense, but every now and then we rise above all that! And I can usually find something hopeful. A few years ago I said that I was giving up cynicism for Lent, and although it creeps in from time to time, I try to tame it! This poem is beautifully balanced. 🙂 Debra

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