Promises Promises.

Confusion, hurt, bewildermment and anger seem to be the order of the day amongst many loyal supporters of the Lib Dems and Conservatives over recent events. Significant differences and policy distinctives appear to have been sacrificed in the shuffle to get into No 10 and get the incumbent out. What of the promises in the manifestos, made and broken to gain power?
Promises. Must they always be subservient to a "higher cause". In relationships they matter immensely. Promises count. They are words of commitment. They signal intent and dedication. They foster trust and are worth recalling when times are tough. A commitment has been made. It requires to be adhered to and not lightly, if ever, discarded. The public taking of vows and making promises is one of the distinguishing marks between marriage and the private arrangment of cohabitation.
The lightness in our attitude to promises reminds me of this poem about the Auld Lammas Fair in Ballycastle where you can see promises made over the buying and selling of horses.

Promises. Promises.

We will buy a horse again this year
At the Lammas Fair.

We will look at its teeth
And run our hands over its haunches
And its tail will fall through our hands
As easy as sand through fingers.

And we will run it up and down
The Fair Hill in the sweltering August afternoon
Scattering crowds and scaring people from Belfast.

And we will spit on our palms
And slap hands together
In agreement.

And when you are driving
From Ballycastle to Ballymoney
Some wet November day,
You might see it
Loitering
In a pasture more mud than grass,
Somewhere near Dervock.

Motionless.
Head bowed against the icy rain.