Goethe once said that the less accessible a work is to the intellect the greater it is
For many years during that terrible war I tried to understand his thoughts
If anything to make sense of the slaughter that surrounded me on a daily basis
I woke up every morning expecting to die but found that only a small death had overtaken me
But is all over now I returned in one piece physically to a country fit for heroes
Yet I had changed as I needed isolation my wonderful parents understood that
They arranged that I should live in a church tower until my faculties returned
My tiny room is full of poems written by doomed poets to mothers daughters sisters and friends
In most of the poems these ordinary soldiers know that they will not return
It is a simple poetry of longing of memories spent and hollow futures
I have not read them all as they pain me as I survived just like my dog Dakota
She was there when I left for war and greeted me when I returned
I can see her freely in the garden from my window a collie full of life
Although I have isolated myself I welcome a small number of visitors
They will help me recover with walks in the fields of butterflies
Although this war has ceased I feel that another war is possible
And have under my own conditions decided to search for the light
It may take a day or it may take years or never happen at all
My residence can be accessed from the tower undercroft
There is a flight of frail wooden steps and I leave a candle burning for your safety
My isolation has kept visitors to a minimum but feel welcome all I ask is that you write to me
G.A.Stephens