Three years ago after Sheila had taken a photograph of our dog, Lady, walking on the moors in one of their favourite places, I composed a poem entitled, 'A place to dream'. I believe that deep in our hearts we all day dream about places to go, people to meet, things to do and events to happen to us. And when it comes to dreaming, perhaps dogs are no different to humans. I've little doubt that the dreams of man and woman have greatly changed from century to century. Hundreds of years ago when life was very unequal between husband and wife and expectations of matrimonial duty were vastly different, the dream of a man about the woman he might hope to one day marry varied greatly from the dream of his poor wife to be. Below is a poem which might have been written then:
'A Place to Dream'
'There is in the heart of lovers a woodland stream,
a place of soft serenity, a place to dream
upon the days since we first met,
of dare devil moments; no regret.
There were times you said you loved and me alone,
when you gave me shelter within your home,
within your heart, your soul, your very being,
a time for secret love to stay unseen
by those who did doubt the very words your mouth first spoke
when you said, 'I love thee, lad; you're my bloke.'
'Aye, lass' said I, 'I'm thine and thou art mine,
now let's be off home, the bairns are hungry and will want to dine,
and tha's clothes to wash and socks to darn before tha' goes to bed,
a house to clean, a man to please and three bairns not yet fed.'
'I love thee, lass, tha' knows it's true,
your my lady, there's nowt I wouldn't do for you.
I know that life is often hard and times are bitter sweet,
now get out the tub, and fill it warm and softly wash my feet.'
You're my woman and I'm your man
and you do what you do because it's the way of the moors
and because you can; my sweet lady of Haworth Glen.'
William Forde: Copyright July 14th, 2017.