Left onto Stoke Lane: A poem from a leaver

Trinity main building cropped

The sun shone brightly,

it’s warmth tempered by a deep cooling breeze.

The days weren’t as long as they had been,

the grasses were browning from summer’s green,

And I could see, as I drove in,

that the leaves were desperately clinging to the trees,

Soon all would fall and a new thing would begin.

It had been a quiet drive,

Serene and subtle deep,

The slower speed now meant I could perceive

the acorns and conker seeds

knocking in the wheel arches.

Left onto Saville Road from Parry’s Lane,

then right onto Stoke Road down the hill,

I’m sure it’s here I should turn in.

There are indeed some scenes that stick

like the big rocks at the bottom of clear streams,

or words vividly spoken mid-winter dreams,

that lay claim to a past and form the present’s meaning

while conquering future schemes,

She was one of these,

The trees – like her veil – did peel,

her brick work sealed by the gardens (Big up Dave Snell).

Intimidating, her beauty was to me,

Shyly I walked into her open arms

and within her embrace I blinked.

Then with a blade, dipped in love she touched me

Hurting to heal, healing to teach,

teaching to give me more than I had dreamed

There are indeed some scenes that stick,

like the big rocks at the bottom of clear streams,

or words vividly spoken mid-winter dreams

that lay claim to a past and form the present’s meaning

while conquering the future’s schemes.

How indeed, will I now with eyes open

Full of hope release the grip of her embrace?

Even though the grasses are green,

and the flowers pristine,

And the trees themselves in bloom,

And my real calling is to serve her groom,

How will I, without tears, this very long journey resume?

Well, I must bid these faces adieu,

Treasure the spaces and rooms,

The calories burnt and consumed,

The songs sung in and out of tune,

The comedians, The d.j’s,

and the tears shed in the old swimming pool.

As they go from present meaning to past anchor,

securing my future schemes

as I turn left one last time onto Stoke Road,

and up the hill.

The light brightly shines through the clouds,

the sun they slightly shroud in drizzles will win,

His warmth, seeping in through the slight chill

will bless the new leaves and fill the trees,

And lay claim to a past, form the present’s meaning,

and conquer the future – once a dream.

(c) Denis Adide 2016
denis3

Denis Adide

Denis Adide was a freelance screenwriter and a Contact worker with looked-after children before becoming an ordinand at Trinity through the Diocese of London. He finished his programme this May and will be serving his curacy at Christ Church Turnham Green in Kensington.

About this blog

This blog hosts a collection of voices, some from within the Trinity community and others from beyond it. Although all opinions are each author’s own and cannot necessarily be considered to represent Trinity’s position, our prayer is that you will be inspired, informed, and challenged through your engagement with our bloggers.

Blog categories

Topic cloud