If you know me, you’ll have already heard (and been bored to tears by now) that I met my favorite rock star, John Lodge of the Moody Blues recently. We’ve had very brief encounters before, a quick autograph, a wave as he’s dashed from the stage door to the waiting tour bus, and the moment he kept still on stage when he noticed I was taking a photo of him. I’ve spent hours waiting outside venues, ever hopeful, often in vain, but in true rock chick style, I’ve never given up. A Sunday evening in Shrewsbury during his recent solo tour was the best. I had a front row seat, booked an eternity ago, and of course, the concert was fantastic. I have his guitar pick for a memento. Later, some of us waited in the upper foyer by the stage door. I expected a fleeting glimpse as he was rushed past by minders, but no, just the opposite. He mingled freely with us, relaxed and unhurried, chatting as he signed things and posed for photos. He was friendly, very down to earth and genuinely interested in his fans. It won’t matter if we never meet again. I enjoyed a conversation with him, during which I mentioned the song he had written for his grandson and he showed me a photo of him. He made this senior rock chick incredibly happy by being generous with his time.
Having time or making time for those who need me is a priority shaped by my upbringing. I’m thankful to have had a childhood in a close family that gave me lots of contact with all my grandparents and other relatives. I was always welcome, nothing was too much trouble for these generous people who were happy to adapt, to share and to help. I know how fortunate I was. I know how different it can be for others.
I confess, I’m new to the work of Lemn Sissay. I was listening to a condensed account of his biography on the radio and I wept with overwhelming sadness at the separation from his mother and loss of his true identity. I felt shocked at his turbulent upbringing yet proud that he found the strength of character to grow into who he is today, writer, poet, Chancellor of the University of Manchester and MBE. He was twenty-one years old before he discovered his birth name which helped him to find and become reunited with his mother. Learning about him touched me deeply. His poems reflect his generosity of spirit, the spirit of his nature which I feel is what carried him through his childhood. INVISIBLE KISSES Written by Lemn Sissay If there was ever one Whom when you were sleeping Would wipe your tears When in dreams you were weeping; Who would offer you time When others demand; Whose love lay more infinite Than grains of sand. If there was ever one To whom you could cry; Who would gather each tear And blow it dry; Who would offer help On the mountains of time; Who would stop to let each sunset Soothe the jaded mind. If there was ever one To whom when you run Will push back the clouds So you are bathed in sun; Who would open arms If you would fall; Who would show you everything If you lost it all. If there was ever one Who when you achieve Was there before the dream And even then believed; Who would clear the air When it’s full of loss; Who would count love Before the cost. If there was ever one Who when you are cold Will summon warm air For your hands to hold; Who would make peace In pouring pain, Make laughter fall In falling rain. If there was ever one Who can offer you this and more; Who in keyless rooms Can open doors; Who in open doors Can see open fields And in open fields See harvests yield. Then see only my face In reflection of these tides Through the clear water Beyond the river side. All I can send is love In all that this is A poem and a necklace Of invisible kisses Thank for reading, Pam x Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to Facebook
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