When I go out in the mornings with my cleaning job in the blue van, we pass the island of flowers every day. Which reminds me it’s a hundred years this year that Edith Cavell, the Vicar’s daughter from Swaderton in Norfolk, and Rupert Brooke – Warwickshire soldier and poet, were killed. They were both in Norfolk when they heard news of the war breaking out. Rupert was in Cley-Next-the-Sea, and Edith was at home in Swardeton. As far as I know, they didn’t meet each other, but to me they’re similar. Both serving their country, and having a sense of humour quite unique. If you wanted to know more about the life of each of them, you will find it here, in The Angel and the Poet. The articles were originally published in The Great War magazine, but I felt that they belonged together, so self-published them here. ———————————— One of Rupert Brooke’s poems – written when he was abroad, and dreaming of home Old vicarage, Granchester Just now the lilac is in bloom, All before my little room; And in my flower-beds, I think, Smile the carnation and the pink; And down the borders, well I know, The poppy and the pansy blow . . . Oh! there the chestnuts, summer through, Beside the river make for you A tunnel of green gloom, and sleep Deeply above; and green and deep The stream mysterious glides beneath, Green as a dream and deep as death. — Oh, damn! I know it! and I know How the May fields all golden show, And when the day is young and sweet, Gild gloriously the bare feet That run to bathe . . . `Du lieber Gott!’ To read more of the poem, click here
soldier in greenery
Sue’s Website 