10.9.22

Operation Unicorn

   

     Photos taken by Emily Isaacson



I left Abbotsford and went over to Campbell River to visit my parents' home on August 31. I was invited to visit several beaches, shops, an art gallery and a museum. It was quite a lovely time, but the morning I was leaving I was greeted for breakfast with "The Queen is dying. Everyone has rushed to her bedside." They said this as if I was a personal friend of the Queen as I receive a Christmas Card from the Royal family every Christmas. I had hoped to meet the Queen in my lifetime, but I am obliged to admit that I met her when I was seven, and I was taken to her formal visit of Victoria, where I was pushed forward to the fence and came within three feet of her Majesty.



Even as I travelled I found out the Queen had died, and the people around me told what they found out on their phones. It was a sad passing from Nanaimo to the mainland, where a Paddington-like figure awaited me. in sunglasses Yes, I'm afraid Paddington Bear might as well be my bodyguard, and a comfort he is. 


So within the course of a few days, a new King has been announced, a new title for Prince William and Kate, and many changes to the Head of State in both Great Britain and Canada. These are difficult times, and it is interesting to me that both Prince Phillip and the Queen died during the course of the pandemic, as even now we are not entirely through this natural disaster.


Paddington Bear is there every fifteen minutes on TV for the duration of this event, which seems to consume every waking moment. It is with the most regality that "God Save the Queen" was sung at the service following Her Majesty's passing, a finality that sent shivers down our spines with the diamonds of the afterlife. For the glory is incomparable of what she built, as a city and an empire, the unrelentless travail of a great woman in the service of her country and the Commonwealth. The ports of the world welcomed her.

                               Art Gallery Exhibit (poem from exhibit): I Am My Mother's Daughter

We not only mourn her death, we celebrate her life and her passing into the next realm.

I must finally admit that the book LITTOP is to be released on October 22 at Clearbrook Library, and I will do a reading. It is dedicated to Edward. 




Here are the poems I wrote for the Queen:

The Crucified One: Magnificat

 

The Renaissance would sing of you in blue

and white stained glass, with ruby crown,

the red blood of your body next ran down

to the torment of your outer flesh; you

were determined to die in every room

of the three levels of humankind: sound

doctrine made us build stone mansions, to found

hell, and earth, and heaven. Before monsoons

of spirits conjured up ideals—hours

swept away like old houses and picket

fences, marigolds flying in maize.

Rose-red smile, the dark hair, and pale-powdered

face of evening, Lilith’s flow’r, Lilibet’s

cry from all lands sounds, pure oil in a haze.


Elegy of the Royal Rose

 

There was always a royal rose,

in deep red hue, loyal

to a nation: entwining

as I looked deep into time.

The empire that bore

your name wore

the breastplate

with the coat of arms,

and sacred incense.

 

I was first to hold you,

in the lighted hour of truth,

and last to see you go,

the glisten of lush red,

the blush of pink,

a momentary trace of snow,

birth pang of departed lands—

life nestled in my open hands,

unrepentant starts,

O Commonwealth of hearts.


     Emily Isaacson


Here is a formal invitation to attend the WLI next three events: read more.

Here is the dress I will be wearing:  







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