Written by H.P. Lovecraft in 1927
Did it arrive, then?
I sent you my youth, my song
of the summer's way
with the white gold hair
sunshine gave me in those days.
God's bead of grace acts
exactly like sweat
running down my sacred form.
That's why my soft edge
tastes so much like rain.
October 15, 2010 9:31 PM
The poem is of a postcard and so is the image. Of course the subject discussed by Lovecraft et al. is not the poem. I just like having H.P.'s penmanship on my blog.
Oddly, my grandfather on my Mother's side was nicknamed H.P. also. He was a Dutchman named Hartog Philippus, a family name. I have seen a list of ancestors and those two names appear often in this order and in the reverse.
There was an H.P. who was sent to Auschwitz in World War II as well, not my grandfather. That is about the Jewish side of the family of course. The family has Jews and Christians both, with the Jews being the older part of the lineage. An ancestor came to Holland back in the days of the Inquisition, coming from Portugal. My Grandfather did not like the Catholic Church for a very good reason. The Inquisition killed some of us. He hated Nazis even more for the same reason.
I think this poem may be the best poem I have ever written so far.