She was greying and unkempt
when I first noticed her.
She had been left to wither in an old barn in the Ariège,
at the foothills of the Pyrénées.
Her big sisters (huge old wooden doors)
were still protecting her
to the extent that I nearly didn't notice her there;
so well was she hidden
by shadows and cobwebs!
She seemed so folorn that I wanted to bring her colour.
I sang to her, read to her...
From the beginning; it was always Thoreau (my favourite)
There was never any question about that...
His wisdom can inspire the most greying of spirits
We shared secrets, she and I.
She told me she had never seen the sea.
So I dressed her in the Bleu de L'Ile d'Yeu.
She pleaded for some embellishment,
so I dressed her with a page of history from her region.
so I dressed her with a page of history from her region.
Petit à petit we have built her a new life together
Like me, she now feels equally comfortable
with tradition and progress.
And in her we have reconciled the two.
.
But there's more to discover in the old girl yet
She hasn't had her final say...
Maybe later today I will give her the final touches.
Maybe later today I will give her the final touches.
Maybe it will be tomorrow when the mess monsters go back to school
that we shall chat over coffee and gesso!