Skills We Have Learnt

Skills We Have Learnt

Walking past to pick up my prescription
I pause to watch a class at Kelburn Normal
practice hockey skills: trap; then shoot, trap;
then shoot. Energy & enthusiasm shout
the air. I used to be not bad, in Hagley mist,
or later, Hauraki fog. And so to coaching.

One girl - also in my school production -
developed a crush. To dampen ardour I
mentioned my engagement to someone
from another town. Mistake! A rival gave
her challenge, her pursuit became even
more resolute - I must never be alone
with her.

Idealistic, such naivety about
relationships. I would not like again to be
that young schoolmaster, long sports fields ago.

Harvey McQueen.

Folk ask why do I write poems? Simple answer. It’s part compulsion, part satisfaction, part a desire to explain and share. It’s why I have a blog. The feedback is revealing and interesting. Some want more literature, less education. Others want the reverse. You should be more revealing one person said. Another, you wallow in nostalgia.

It’s my existence I’m wrestling with – not in a negative sense. And feedback is part of that process. I’ve had a dual career. If I’d specialised I might have gone further in that field. Water under the bridge. But it’s been fun to have dabbled in both streams and all the while bubbling in the background has been this secret soul called Harvey having his own heresies, prejudices and fulfilments.

All I know is that as the years go by I find I have an increasing necessity to scribble. Enough said.