URSABLOG: Summer Wish List 2025

Without noticing it explicitly I have been mentally preparing for the summer for some time: reflecting on past visits to Ancient Epidaurus, and thinking about what books I should take away with me. Well now both the first trip to Epidaurus and the holiday are almost upon me, and whatever questions I was asking of myself, it seems the answer is poetry.

I mean poetry in three senses.

Firstly, the poetry of the theatre (for this is how we must describe the work of the ancient tragedians – despite the attempts of more modern, cleverer minds to deconstruct and debase it) is eternal, carrying powerful lessons for us all. There is nothing artificially intelligent in these ageless and priceless works.

Secondly, poetry proper. By this I mean poems, which now I see are perfect for the beach. Small, short volumes carrying works that can let one drift in thought, reflecting on the meaning and beauty of phrase or stanza. No need to arrest the mind from wandering, just let it soar. I wonder why I never thought of it before. Seferis is top of the list, but I am open to other suggestions.

Thirdly, the poetry of the land and seas and skies of Greece itself. Hard to capture or crystallise in verse itself, but very easy to exist in.

Many years ago, I wrote a poem – Summer Wish List – that I tend to turn back to around this time of the year. And so it was this morning as my mind turned to packing for the next week or two, and basically getting my shit together. And I thought: what do I want from this summer, and I mean, what do I really, really want?

This poem is an attempt at an answer. Over the years it has been revised, and tightened, and polished to reflect my own desires and my own, well εξέλιξής, meaning not exactly evolution but also not exactly progress either, but perhaps something in between. It is now ready to share with you. It is a poem inspired and informed by Greece, and all that it has given me and revealed to me, about life in general, and about myself. Everyone has different desires, needs, agendas, weaknesses, and I indeed have mine. This poem is just the best version of the expression of my wants and needs at this particular moment in time. I hope you accept it in that spirit.

In the meantime, if you have been on holiday, I hope it was what you wanted and needed. If you are yet to go, I hope you get what you want and need. And if you are in between holidays, well lucky you, you get to have two bites of the cherry…

Summer Wish List

I want books.

Not just the exploration of other lives and ages,

Digesting the richness of language and thought

But the life-changing power of words re-engaging:

Inspiring and reigniting my stalled, trammelled mind.

I want company.

Not just the comfort of randomly knit numbers

Braving the frantic anxieties of mad crowding fun,

But the calming power of companionable comrades

Sharing fresh memories under the widening sun.

I want food and wine.

Not just voracious, mind-blowing bilious eruptions

From tediously over-elaborate plates,

But natural abundance, lubricating and fuelling

Friendship and laughter well into the night.

I want the sea.

Not just the bouncing brashness of umbrellas and loungers

Throbbing to the soundtrack of the trivial beach,

But in the wine dark depths where the past is forgotten

And the ashes of failure are dispersed and dissolved.

I want to swim.

Not just cleansing the grime from a year in the trenches,

Or to strengthen resolve for the battles to come,

But for late afternoon dives – swooping, gliding – unwinding

The tight coils of consciousness against pale golden light.

I want sleep.

Not just the brief release from grinding exhaustion

Or shallow sedation stolen from the night and the glass,

But the deepest blue plunge of sensory immersion

Floating alone, adrift in the soft pulsing night.

I want peace.

Not just the gift of a soft soothing sunset,

Or a hopeful dawn closing a long lively night,

But the peace that comes from gentle forgiveness:

From others, for others, and – I hope – of my life.

Simon Ward