Patch of GreenPosted: May 19, 2011
Totally unintentionally, there seems to be a green theme to my posts this week. Smoothies, farming, and now poetry. This weekend my man and I are sneaking away for a weekend on Martha’s Vineyard. I cannot even tell you how excited I am to get to the island for 2 short days. The Vineyard is a very special place in my heart thanks to my grandparents who kept a home there when I was growing up. Time with my family led to high school and college summers working there and some dear friends that I shared them with. John Belushi said it well when he said: “you have not lived a great summer until you have lived one young, drunk, and on the Vineyard”. Right on. I could go on and on with favorite things to do there, places to eat at, summertime activities. But what really gets me is how I feel when I am there, like all is right with the world. I am totally content in that pristine haven and feel safely cocooned from the stress of life back home. My grandfather wrote the following poem when he was a senior at Penn State but I believe he cultivated his patch of green in his summer home and what later became his permanent residence. Though his generosity of spirit, all 6 of his kids, their spouses, and his 13 grandchildren think of the Vineyard as their oasis as well. In honor of my Poppi, summer, and those special places that can bring so much peace:
Unfettered and as yet unscathed,
I admit my pose as youthful dilettante,
But per chance this very freedom
Gives me clearer if unleavened by thoughts.
Well cast for my role in neat bourgeois society,
I falter and recoil from much I see,
Not that my lot would be to me distasteful,
Country-wise t’would be all too easy to embrace.
The slides have been well-greased for my approach,
But posed before I slip with abandon down these grooves,
I stop and shield myself from the danger there,
My armour – a patch in which to be aware.
A patch of green untrammeled by the crowd,
Secure from family, friend or man,
A proving ground on which to test the worth,
Of man’s solutions on this God-made earth.
Is it important? Is it Real?
Or is it what “they” want?
Does it matter? Does it count?
Or have “men always done it?”
I’ll live within the pattern,
Society is stronger than I,
But let me have this Patch of Green,
To weigh and test it by.