This poem is what Greenpeace put up to remember the poet Benjamin Zephaniah after his sudden departure from this Earth. I have just been listening to 'Desert Island Discs' and the music he chose, he was a Rastafarian, something of which I know little of, except for the dreadlocks, but his choice was mostly for the words. Funnily enough the one record he did choose as his favourite was 'Take Five' by Dave Brubeck. I think it is the only jazz music that I really like! I came to it early and whenever I hear it on the radio, I stop, and listen.
But in one of the interviews on radio 4 he mentioned that he had a Corkscrew Willow tree, which grew quickly and had almost covered his shed in the garden.
Well that brought back a memory of my friends Roy and Sybil and their tiny cottage and long garden. Sybil, a very good friend who I would visit often gave me cuttings of a willow and the Corkscrew willow. Just put them in a jar of water and they sprouted roots and so into the garden they went. They grew like Jack's beanstalk and I was delighted with them. Zephaniah mentioned that the tree only lives for a short time, which in fact mine did, but he reckoned his had lasted a long time.
But it brought back happy memories of sitting in Sybil's garden having lunch or tea. The day when we buried her German hound under the bench. She had sat at the top of the stairs in the cottage, nursing the old dog whilst he slipped away and the burying of him in the garden was a fitting thing to do.