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We can all thank my mother for this picture. How she managed to get it out of a moving vehicle, I haven’t got a clue. |
A Master Passes
One winter, two or three years ago, I came down with a cold. It wasn’t a bad cold, you know, just the kind that makes you want to lie in bed all day and not move. So that’s what I did. And while I was doing that, I read. And that, my dears, is how I read all eight Harry Potter books by the fabulous J.K. Rowling in two weeks.
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I really, really loved Professor Snape in the Harry Potter movies. The mental image I had constructed in the first few books didn’t work by the time I reached the end of the series (somewhere around day 9 3/4), and when I watched the movies several months later, something clicked. Oh, of course that’s Professor Snape. It all just made sense.
Then, this past summer when I was housesitting for friends, I watched Sense and Sensibility. I’d listened to the book off Librivox (which is incredible and if you haven’t heard of it, go check it out: librivox.org/) and I knew how the story went – but Alan Rickman’s potrayal of Colonel Brandon was breath-taking. There was so much heart in it, so much passion and feeling. It was hugely relieving to come to the end of the movie and feel so satisfied. He got rewarded for what he had laboured so hard for. It was… awe-inspiring.
I don’t feel like my poem has encompassed all that I wanted it to, but I haven’t been able to figure out how else to express what I’m trying to say. So here it is:
Home
An Ending
Love Lines, Part One
First of all, Happy New Year! It’s 2016 and for the next month anything I handwrite a date on is likely to look funny because I may have to change it from a 5 to a 6. Please don’t be offended.
Secondly, a collection of love lines that randomly occur in the middle of a batch of cookies. Actually, the first one occurred to me while I was elbow deep in lemon-scented soap suds. I made my brother get out my laptop and type it out because it was a glorious sink of water at just the right temperature and I didn’t want to waste it or the line.
Copyright 2015 by Annie Louise Twitchell