The final line of Wendy Cope’s viral poem “The Orange” reads, “I love you. I’m glad I exist.” Centered around the simple action of sharing an orange with friends, Cope treats the unremarkable with affection, observing, “And that orange, it made me so happy, / As ordinary things often do / Just lately.” The speaker acknowledges and appreciates how menial tasks inform our daily lives and nourish our relationships, a lesson in the value of attentiveness.
All of Wendy Cope’s contain lessons similar to that in “The Orange.” I received her poetry collection The Orange and Other Poems this past April, having fallen in love with her straightforward and emotionally honest outlook on life. I always find that, with poetry, it is best to take my time with it. Don’t read the whole thing in one sitting. Instead, come back to the book a few times a week, read one or two poems, and give yourself time to reflect. This particular collection of poems has planted countless seeds of wisdom and questions in me from this spring until now, and I return to her words often for comfort. There are two poems that particularly stuck out to me:
“Magnetic”
i spell it out on this fridge door
you are so wonderful
i even like th way you snor
Though this is a short poem, “Magnetic” made me emotional upon my first reading. A sense of nostalgia, earnest affection, and love are palpable. The image of magnets on a fridge door unlocks, at least in my mind, a memory of childhood amplified by the missing letters in the last line. Coupled with the confessions of love “you are so wonderful” and “i even like the way you snore,” Cope creates a sense of childlike innocence, with her love for this person radiating off the page. This poem feeds my hopelessly romantic nature, able to make me smile without fail. Its simplistic structure is a reminder to hold onto simple feelings— namely excitement and childlike infatuation.
“Leaving (for Dick and Afkham)”
Next summer? The summer after?
With luck we’ve a few more years
Of sunshine and drinking and laughter
And airports and tears.
The last poem in the collection, “Leaving (for Dick and Afkham)” is another one of my favorites. I originally read it at the start of the summer, writing it down so it served as a reminder to cherish every moment and memory the season had to offer. Cope does not find it trivial to harp on the simple things. Sunshine, drinking, laughter, airports, and tears: Cope tells the story of a summer in two lines, the brevity representative of how quickly time comes and goes, especially under the August setting sun, surrounded by family and friends.
These poems, like all of Wendy Cope’s work, are ingrained in my head. Her musings are always grounded in universal feelings, dwelling on everyday interactions, and dedicated toward her loved ones. Her poetry has taught me to find the beauty in every space I find myself in. Whether I am content, laughing whilst surrounded by friends, or sad, alone in my room, I am working toward finding the opportunities for love and good in everything.