A gem from one of Godfrey’s last known journals…365 Odd Thyme Stories…enjoy.

Five things were predicted at birth for me- Godfrey will never drown, he is destined to wander, he will dislike beets.    Love will always find Godfrey, yet never to stick, Wise Woman Gypsy Sarah  kept the 5th to herself- “He will be all his life, a Homeless Romantic ”

“My dear old granny, when born I, well she loved a wee tipple”. “When only a Bub, she showed me off in the pub, I was chuffed neath the chin, given stout in my bottle, was spoiled on sweets and handed about” “Old Liz behind the bar reckoned, “With those eyes he will be, a Homeless Romantic no doubt”

“Ma called me a ” Wee Hoon”, as alone in my room, I immersed myself in ” The Sonnets”. “In dreams I wandered beet free, lonely moors, misty beaches, and hills for the love I had lost…lost cross the cold Atlantic”  “For she was of wealth, and I was  poor, a manure seller, and stable lad, was just a Homeless Romantic”

“My sister Alice once told me- “To impress the girls I dare, you to stand on the Septic Tank, and pluck out your nipple hair”. “I was old enough to have one or two, so I did”. “Well, the girls I fancied chased me away, with beets on a pointed stick” “I went roaming afar not long after, twas a Homeless Romantic”.

“There was of course, my one true love, Peruvian Clementine.” “Down at the fish-shop eels slipped through her big hands, Deftly she shucked oysters, cut cod pieces thick”..”. When  Clementine threw me face down in the warm sands, my future was sealed- as a Homeless Romantic”.

“I sought hidden the poetry of vast, dirty cities, and the mountains.” Sought wisdom chalked on walls, barked out from market stalls”. “Sought it in the whisper that beckoned me within, the tent of a Palm Reader’ “I  an innocent skeptic, “She took my hand, in tobacco stained old one, told me, “you are indeed a poet, a Homeless Romantic”

“Arrested for singing neath the window of Beverly Fishleigh , wrong window, the coppers informed me”. “Beets were served on a tray, breakfast, lunch and tea”. “It was not very nice in the Reading Town “Nick”- ” I told the old judge “I’m not vagrant or nuisance, merely picked the wrong window to sing under, simply a Homeless Romantic”.

“Now at 40, I woke up with grey in my beard, oft at hostels and gatherings, young folk look at me like I am weird”, but I’ve never regretted this vagabond life, from castle grand, to moldy tent wet”. “From Ballarat, to Knockfollie’s Bridge, knees creaky in the mornings, a tad arthritic, still seeking wisdom, I remain odd, a Homeless Romantic.”


8 thoughts on “HOMELESS ROMANTIC- From Godfrey

  1. Ours was old Anita, who would casually pop with her cigarette, the condoms I inflated and batted towards her, never missing a beat of non stop chat, usually with Old Liz…

  2. Oh, another bittersweet bit. i wish I could enjoy the antics of Godfrey and not have my heart ache at his mistreatment by others. I know he would be the last to need my sympathy, he is such a self-contained person, but I wish everyone had felt about him as I do.

  3. He was a tad misunderstood, as all who dislike beets are, but do not grieve for Godfrey- his was a life of unbridled joy, even when mistreated. In I979, I worked with a lovely young chap who would stand on the septic tank, and pluck his chest hairs to beg cookies- he went on to Med school, and in 1999, accepted the Nobel Peace Prize for Doctors Without Borders, you just never know how far I that wave will go up the beach. (Sorry, my next story he gets a bit banged around by Alice)…Thanks Janet

  4. Yes, Janet’s students were blessed, and they adored her. She made them laugh, and each felt special to be in her class. We need more romantics to soften our often harsh world. IMO

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