Bill Walton

Chalice / Calice Bill Walton

Poems, I think, ought to hold out hope in a commentary of our times, which on occasion, can appear bleak. Political statements can be grist for poets so that may be included, as it is our sworn duty to suggest ways to improve society and our lot in life. Or poems may simply be 'fun'. For a brief moment I thought of entitling this work as "Cold Comfort" but I wanted a more positive title. My muse suggested something about sipping from the Chalice of Life. Hmmm. In Macbeth, Act 1, scene 7. Macbeth says: . . . But in these casesWe still have judgement here; that we but teachBloody instructions, which being taught, returnTo plague the inventor. This even-handed justiceCommends the ingredients of our poison'd chaliceTo our own lips . . . Ah, the poisoned chalice. However, I thought that might be a little over the top for my poetry. Then I recalled my good friend, whose mother tongue was French, once exclaiming, "Câlice! I forgot to bring the wine!" - there it was - a moderately strong curse reproving the religious act of drinking from the holy chalice.