haunt me, please

knock my drink in the sink
and mess on with my nets

lonesome is the new cosy

talk to me,
leave some words
in a bird's nest,
behind a bike shed,
buried at sea,
pressed to my breast,
laid out in feathers,
in spilt milk,
or brown ink,
written in crumbs by my bed.

the gypsy caravan on the A1

curiously, this morning,
i awoke with hair like a tidal wave and
felt less wistful about the little red apples ripening on the bough.

wednesday: fire on the moors

hello day

Friday 21st January 1944
Monk's House

Darling Tiger,
I am slightly excited & at the same time apprehensive of your saying that I'm once again wrong or foolish or both. I went into Lewes this morning to buy some horsemeat for Merle, but what I actually bought was a Rembrandt etching for you. It is No. 27 in the enclosed catalogue. I sneaked in at the back of Miller's and found no one there at all. So I broke into the gallery and had it all to myself for half an hour. I was just congratulating myself on being able to get away without seeing anyone when the two sisters caught me. I was fascinated by No. 27 & when I found that it could be bought could not resist the pleasure of seeing it on your wall. You've put so many beautiful things on my walls that you must let me put one on yours. That is if you think as I do about it - I do hope you do. The show ends tomorrow - isn't it a nuisance? I should have liked you to see it.

I do hope you won't be very tired by all your visitors. I love you dearest, more than ever.

Your L.



Love Letters
Leonard Woolf & Trekkie Ritchie Parsons
1941 - 1968

i knew it.
the magic radio station - the one with the singing indian gods...
it's gone.

i am exhausted

Thursday 18th November 1943
Monk's House

My Dearest of creatures, It was wretched having to leave you. But I am sure you will be alright if you stay in bed for the week. And lie like a log. You are too full of life for a patient. So don't sit up in bed like a Jack-in-the-box whenever you think of something - which is what you do.
Otherwise you are a perfect patient.
The bitch is being sent direct from Scotland with her name on the label.
She will probably not arrive until Sat.
I can just catch the post, but I felt I must tell you that I love you though I think you know it & that it is a twilight world without you.

Your
L.




Love Letters
Leonard Woolf & Trekkie Ritchie Parsons
1941 - 1968

what's my status?

* nicky sees shiny paving
* nicky is kept warm by pooter
* nicky will learn to make porridge tomorrow
* nicky laughs at bouncy-ball in the kitchen
* nicky cries in the morning
* nicky is reading leonard woolf's love letters
* nicky bought a pretty top today
* nicky likes gin and cucumber
* nicky will give school another try
* nicky has to provide evidence of her grandmother's death

you can't see what i'm doing,
but it's meant for you.

don't talk to me about yr husband,
i'm jealous and it gives me crying eyes and hands that ache from not being held.

i just found a magic radio station.
it's full of singing indian gods.
they sing the longest songs.
now i'm scared to turn the radio off.
in case it disappears because it's all just in my head.