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