Turns out I have a closer connection to a poet I much admire than I thought.
The arts centre where I do occupational therapy (pottery) is an old school.
I knew this - I was in two musicals based in the theatre there.
But the blue plaque was put up well after my am-dram days - after his death in 2007.
Vernon Scannell was Aylesbury born, and I did not know this.
My first English teacher almost definitely did - she was the one who read us A Case of Murder (
here).
And he went to school in the building now known as the Queens Park Arts Centre.
So as this thread reminded me that there are other poetry lovers out there, I'm also sharing this one of his. Which I find delightfully creepy. Reminds me very much of Betjamin's False Security, which I also found disturbing, but memorable. And dare I say it, a bit Dr Who?!
I probably should have posted one of Scannell's war poems - to continue the theme - but to be honest, it's always been the childhood ones that appealed to me.
Hide & Seek.
Call out, call loud -
"I'm ready. Come and find me!"
The sacks in the tool-shed smell like the seaside.
They'll never find you in the salty dark,
But be careful that your feet aren't sticking out,
Wiser not to risk another shout.
The floor is cold.
They'll probably be searching the bushes, near the swing.
Whatever happens you mustn't sneeze
When they come prowling in.
And here they are, whispering at the door
You've never heard them sound so hushed before.
Don't breathe, don't move, stay dumb.
Hide in your blindness, they're moving closer
Someone stumbles, mutters
Their words and laughter scuttle and they're gone,
But don't come out just yet, they'll try the lane
And then the greenhouse and back here again.
They must be thinking that you're very clever,
Getting more puzzled as they search all over.
It seems a long time since they went away.
Your legs are stiff, the cold bites through your coat.
The dark damp smell of sand moves in your throat.
It's time to let them know that you're the winner
Push off the sacks, uncurl and stretch.
That's better! Out of the shed and call to them -
"I've won! Here I am! Come and own up! I've caught you!"
The darkening garden watches, nothing stirs
The bushes hold their breath, the sun is gone
Yes, here you are - But where are they who sought you?
Vernon Scannell
(late of Aylesbury)