Please read to the end

For the dverse prompt. Writing on the wall.

Please read to the end

Leave your guns in your van,
prayerbooks, pamphlets and proselytising at home,
no, the trees are not for cutting,
the roof is fine, we like the moss.
Don’t open the gate,
the dogs will get out,
just ring the bell and wait.
These stones were here long before
the Bastille fell, the people rose,
and those who borrow this gnarled space
are like the stones, enduring, unflinching,
and impervious to foolishness.
Whatever you have to say,
they are unlikely to want to hear.

Unknown's avatar

Author: Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

34 thoughts on “Please read to the end”

      1. There certainly is no obligation. When uninvited people come to my door, I speak Danish to them and they quickly leave. I do the same with phone calls that manage to evade the spam filters. I find it extremely annoying.

        Like

      2. The doorbell rarely rings here. The postlady has a key to the post box for packages, so it’s either some odd-jobber wanting to do a bit of tree-felling or cleaning the muck off that roof for you, or it’s the Protestants up the road wanting to convert us or sell us strawberries. Go away!

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Inviting or not, Jane, I love these brusque lines:

    “These stones were here long before
    the Bastille fell, the people rose,
    and those who borrow this gnarled space
    are like the stones, enduring, unflinching …”

    The notion of that old stony exterior, “enduring, unflinching” is remarkable as descriptive of its inhabitants too. Your voice comes through the “writing on the wall,” my friend.

    Like

    Reply

  3. I love the bit of history, including the Bastille, the people rising and specially the stones: enduring, unflinching,
    and impervious to foolishness. You clearly stated your boundaries. 

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. There’s a big Protestant enclave in this region, a result of the natural cussedness of the people who defended everything and everyone against the ‘regime’ during the Hundred Years War and the Wars of Religion. They admit they’re not local, not ever really French, but they think they’re a cut above the local population because of the purity of their religion. Don’t expect any milk of human kindness from them. Not for free,, anyway.

      Like

      Reply

  7. I appreciate the history of the place and the fact that the inhabitants are “impervious to foolishness” but am wondering…have you ever tasted a Protestant strawberry?!

    Like

    Reply

    1. I’m not sure the strawberries are co-opted into their religion, but they taste like most strawberries. Our neighbours who belong to a historically quite large Swiss Lutheran (or maybe Calvinist) tradition grow strawberries. They also proselytise, and have only ever been round to our place with Bibles (in case we didn’t possess one) and to sell us Biblical calendars. A couple of years ago a customer went back on an order and left them with a lot of unsold strawberries. She came around with a car-load, told us about them having strawberries left over and asked if we wanted some. We supposed she was offering us a punnet or two. Que nenni, as we say down here. She was selling them, at top market price. She tried to push a whole crate on us, and we were forced to explain that we didn’t even like strawberries but would take a punnet out of neighbourliness. Haven’t seen her since.

      Like

      Reply

      1. Sigh…not very neighborly of her/them. How do i “unlike”? My church would be considered Calvinist in doctrine but we neither proselytise nor peddle strawberries.

        Like

      2. They’re culturally different to you in that you live in a Protestant country. France is (was) predominantly Catholic and Protestants were a persecuted minority until the ‘Enlightenment’ when all religions were put on the same level. This area was a safe place for Protestants during the Wars of Religion, and there are quite a lot of them, much more diligent about their religion than the Catholics, and they do proselytise, a lot.

        Like

  8. A very polite warning, Jane. I wonder how many would read to the end. Luckily we don’t get too many uninvited guests, even though our cottage faces the road that goes through the village. Mostly I open the window, if it’s someone with a package, and not the door. These scene-setting lines stand out for me:

    ‘These stones were here long before
    the Bastille fell, the people rose,
    and those who borrow this gnarled space
    are like the stones, enduring, unflinching’.

    Like

    Reply

    1. The post people here have a key to the mail box so they put most parcels in without coming to the house. Mostly it’s odd job men looking for work, usually it’s to do us the favour of cutting those trees down before they fall on the house. They don’t get beyond the gate.

      Like

      Reply

    1. We don’t really have a garden, just a part of the meadow enclosed so the dogs can run about. The rest of the place is open, slightly isolated, and it’s prudent not to open the door to anyone you don’t know.

      Like

      Reply

  11. Jane , a wonderful poem full of truths and history. It made me smile the bluntness and sense in it so refreshing.
    I truly enjoyed reading the discussion it provoked. 💜💜💜

    Like

    Reply

  13. Enjoyed the alliteration of that second line and the clarity of boundaries spoken firmly. I’ve never appreciated anyone proselytising at my door. If I was interested, I’d seek it out. I do miss the days when neighbours knocked on doors, however. We are not isolated physically, but rather socially as people tend to hibernate from each other.

    Like

    Reply

    1. Thank you 🙂
      I’ve never experienced that kind of neighbourliness anywhere. People phone up here if they want to call round. Most people have dogs, so you don’t just walk up to the house anyway.

      Like

      Reply

Leave a comment