La Vie Horrible
Life is horrible without
Those glimpses of Paradise,
Saffron fields of gold,
Tamarisk fields of summer,
Roses that never fade
Or the waters of love and truth.
This was the last poem William Oxley wrote, written in hospital less than a week before he died. The handwriting is a scrawl, the paper tea (and blood) stained, scruffy and using the back of an email taken in for him to read. Written January 2020.
‘For passing glimpses of Truth / We strain’ and ‘Love for liberty prospers / In each man.’ Written September 1967.
Fifty-three years apart, yet his belief in Love and Truth never faltered. It runs like a deep seam through all his work. Along with Keats, he believed in Beauty and Truth and Love – always a man for capitals. It stands out in the best of his poetry; sometimes it is hidden by other thoughts. Those who knew his poetry and those who knew him personally were all very aware of his beliefs.