When I am not seeking, I wander around. For some people, they call it loitering. For the law makers the rule is “No loitering, otherwise, you will be charge with vagrancy.”
I’m not really scared with this ruthless or useless law. For one, I know a lawyer, I can easily say, sue me or I’ll see you in court. If not, I have friends in higher places that will defend me, men with guns, aka, cops.
With my wandering round and about especially during coffee or lunch break, the Westside is residential area. There are a few residents I’ve met along the way and we are all on first name basis. Most of them are retired, leaving along. Some looked alone and lonely.
Ian was alone for most times. Talking to him was a challenge because he speaks in rhymes. I realized that he was telling me his poems. It took me awhile to understand his speech because he was toothless. Vagrant, he is not. He just sits at the park writing his thoughts of poetry down.
One day, he presented me a booklet of his poems, first edition. What a sweet man. I received more booklets from him over the years, yet, I don’t know anything personal about him. But he seemed to enjoy talking to me while I listen.
Recently, I have not seen him around. Until one day, I saw a fellow who lives in the same building as Ian. Ian passed away in October last year, he says.
This is a sample of Ian Rudkin’s poetry, page 23. My Song Is In My Step.
Spring is here and the weather is getting warmer. I will miss his presence sitting in the bench under the shade of maple tree. Farewell my friend.Sense Beyond Fueling
I’m responsible for myself;
I’m naturally at home.
Nature is my health
And symptom is this poem. I heed what I sense
And do what I eat.
I cause a few events
By work and not by feat. I cannot assume help
Especially what was error.
To help, I try to tell
Some insights, touch and caring. It seems a truth that women
Have far more sense than taste
In fact the sense for living
On which respect is based. Signed: Kind Wishes from Ian Rudkin
Wow – that was a beautiful post Perpetua, and I pray that Ian knew the Lord and went home to be with Him. I also hope you’ll share more of Ian’s poems with us.
Many blessings,
Cheryl
I can only pray and hope that he does know the Lord. Good thought, I will definitely share more of his poems. If only I can remember where they are.
Wow, so touching. 🙂
It is very touching. Thank you.
Cheers, Angel! 😀
What a beautiful memorial Perpetua. I am sorry for your loss, Ian’s poetry is beautiful. You must have touched his heart.
People come, people go. Most of the time they go to a better place, I hope. He does write beautifully. He touched my heart more than I touched his.
I finally joined Facebook! Now I have to figure out how to use it…love to friend you…I am under my name, Diana Rasmussen…
Congratulations, I will go see and check it out tonight.
Lovely post. What a wonderful gift of time you gave him that he returned with the gift of his heartfelt words. A fitting tribute.
He gave me more than the time I have given him. Thank you.
What a beautiful thing for you to do, Perpetua. I sooo love your heart as it’s as big as the ocean. Hugs Paula xxx
Ocean? Oh no, I don’t know how to swim, Paula. Goodnight. Perpetua.
I do! I will come and save you. Lol hugs Paula xx
Sounds like an enlightened soul.
He is very comfortable in his only company and he does shine. I guess that’s the reason why he caught my attention.
At my age wandering around can be dangerous. I might forget where my apartment is.
😆 Mr. DaG, You never cease to make me smile. Hello there…
Wow, such a powerful post! Very touching. Thank you for sharing this with us.
He is meant to be shared and not just filed away in my bookcase. You are welcome.
So cool and awesome! 🙂
Ian is cool and he has an awesome mind.
Thank you for sharing Ian’s poetry. He lives on through you. Namaste!
You are so welcome, he does live in me. Blessings.
You’re not wandering..you’re exploring. Finding all the little treasures in the world that are there to be discovered.
That’s a good way to put it, a new lingo for me on a treasure hunt.
You call it wandering, I call it meandering. But its the same thing more or less. I meander on my motorcycle through neighborhoods that are different than mine. I’m curious about how others live, how they’ve chosen to landscape their yards (or not at all as many just stay with the dirt). Its a different experience on a motorcycle than a car because you can “smell” the neighborhood while on a bike..the different foods people cook for meals for instance. I haven’t found a treasure like your Ian but I think your post has given me incentive to study the people of these neighbors more closely. Thanks for sharing!
Another word to remember, meander. Since I walk a lot, I have more time to strike a conversation with so many people. Most of them reciprocate and that is the start of a beautiful beginning. Here’s hoping you will find treasure as you meander and thank you for visiting, Rose.
You touched a man’s heart, you shared his inner most thoughts and dreams. Through you he lives on. Through your travels you have touched someone. Keep up the good work.
Thank you for your kind words, Tammye. I will miss his presence as soon as the weather gets warmer.
Perhaps your travels will fill your void with a new adventure and another stranger full of passion with words… 🙂 Happy Spring ahead…
Thank you and more stories to share. Happy spring, indeed.
Ooh….Ian, thank you Perpetua, sometimes I’m a little slow! 😉
you and me both 😛