Hi! It’s Candia again. No, I’ve not been in hibernation, but could
have been excused for refusing to emerge from the duvet, with all
the recent rotten weather.
Went down to Wintonchester today, to soak up some sun and I came
across my old friend: the wistaria growing over the entrance to The
Cathedral Close. It reminded me of the poem that I wrote nearly
twenty years ago, when I first moved into the area. I had seen an
engraving of Prior’s Gate in an old book in a charity shop more than
three hundred miles away from the city and the ancient shrub was
featured . I immediately bought the book and determined that I
would live in the vicinity of such an impressive portal.
That first winter I waited for the gnarled creeper to blossom. When it
did, I felt that I had come home.
WAITING FOR THE WISTARIA
Waiting weeks for wistaria’s welter
of tendrils, titivating Prior’s Gate,
to flourish its purple helter-skelter
ear-rings. For Winchester, it seems quite late;
elsewhere trailers blossomed against bright brick
facades, yet soon their petals will be spent.
But this one saves its special party trick
till last-like choice Cana wine, heaven scent.