Postpost: By a wonderful cascade of serendipity and act of thoughtfulness, Jean heard and passed on this poem by EJ Scovell, whom I knew nothing about but having read the obituary linked to would like to know more of. It's so beautiful and apposite that it deserves to be in the main post in the light.
Blogging, like life, can be like that, you sometimes get more than you put in.
I would if I could choose
Age and die outwards as a tulip does;
Not as this iris drawing in, in-coiling
Its complex strange taut inflorescence, willing
Itself a bud again – though all achieved is
No more than a clenched sadness,
The tears of gum not flowing.
I would choose the tulip’s reckless way of going;
Whose petals answer light, altering by fractions
From closed to wide, from one through many perfections,
Till wrecked, flamboyant, strayed beyond recall,
Like flakes of fire they piecemeal fall.