Frederick Parker-Rhodes 1914 - 1987 My father told us these stories while he washed up, and my brothers and I dried and put away. I think some were actually at bathtime. When I, the youngest, asked for a story just for me, Daddy would ask, What about? I asked for one about a Princess, and fairy godmothers stories. They are listed in the Archive, below. If you have anything he has written, or about him to share, it's most welcome.

Monday, December 22, 2008

The inference of days

by Clare Holtham 16/09/08

In memoriam AFPR, Cambridge

I think of you in your study
above the garage
puffing gently on a pipe,
surrounded by flotsam
and jetsam, Fribourg and Treyer
snuff tins, piles of papers
and books: your castle
against the wind
and the rain;

or out In it,
Shep’s chain round your neck,
Shep running free
across the ploughed land
that skirts Nine Wells Wood,
you stooping
over an old clay pipe
or a coprolite.

Spring mornings,
the bees venturing
from the hive,
the white doves
crooning to their squabs
under the window,
the cherry blossom
fluttering to earth,
so, lightly;
you smiling gently
at the theory of indistinguishables.

Autumn days
when you led us all
on a fungus foray,
deep in woods,
hunting the beefsteak
and the boletus, half
hidden among leaf litter.
Later, Damaris would fry them up,
sharing our supper
with Tom the tramp -
his bicycle propped
against the hedge.

Summer nights,
when you and she would
sleep in the garden,
closer to Gaia -
the shed being much like
that other shed where you went to work
grappling with galaxies
and tongues.

In windy weather,
you’d join with the other
Epiphany philosophers
under a wide sky,
and wheeling gulls
in the inevitable universe:
holed up in a windmill
in Norfolk,
tailwinded in nineteen
forty seven.

Winter evenings,
musing in front of the fire,
Shep dozing
at your feet,
you telling stories
or pondering Qabalah;
unravelling synchronicities
to tell the Friends
at meeting,
untying knots
in quantum mechanics -
trying them musically
perhaps, on the organ -
or simply following the quest
for Wholesight.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

WOW, I have been following your blog just a while but just saw this!
sounds like you had a good dad!
Thanks for sharing!

Oriole said...

To Anonymous, who posted in 2009:
Clare was referring to my father
A.F. Parker-Rhodes phd.
from Oriole Parker-Rhodes aka Oriole Penchwarel

Followers