Monday, 18 December 2017


there was a time when meadow grove
and stream the earth and every common sight
to me did seem apparelled in celestial light

the glory and the freshness of a dream
it is not now as it hath been of yore
turn wheresoe'er I may by night or day
the things which I have seen
I now can see no more

but there's a tree of many, one
a single field which I have looked upon
both of them speak of something that is gone
the pansy at my feet doth the same tale repeat
wither is fled the visionary gleam
where it is now the glory and the dream

William Wordsworth


My grandparents (on my Mom's side), were deaf.
When I was about seven years of age, I learned sign language
out of necessity and curiosity.

My grandfather was an artist/engraver, and was an intelligent 
and creative man who had difficulty dealing with his infliction.
He spent most of his life hospitalized in an institution for the mentally disturbed.

I have fond memories of the many hours that my grandmother and I spent talking
with each other on our hands, at her house at 519 Edward Street in Woodstock. 
This piece was created in Robert and Mona Batho's memory 
and is dedicated to all those who live in the silence.

Edward Street - from the album Night Parachuting
© 1991 Spiral Sky Music, Toronto


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