I have a complaint.
I wish I could paint
but an artist I ain’t,
so I guess I’ll just write
to describe a sight
that possibly might
or invite me
or even to stress
“Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen.” – Leonardo da Vinci
Did you know that I am an auntie to some choughs?
They live here at Cornwall’s Lizard, on these bluffs.
Their breeding nests are well guarded both night and day,
just in case marauding egg hunters come that way.
It is good to know that they are back at nightfall
safely nesting, where they belong in old Cornwall.
How many diff’rent shades of blue can one get into a view?
‘An artist’s paradise’ they call it. That’s just so very true.
If I could paint a picture, then I would paint one now for you,
but I guess that my little photo here will just have to do.
St Ives is the place to be whenever you are feeling blue.
There are beaches to die for and ev’ry street affords a view.
There’s gift shops and galleries up little narrow alley ways
and perchance you will find a pleasant place to gawp, gasp and gaze.
My face went a whiter shade of pale
when my man asked me over to stay
for passionate nights in white satin
because he was soon going away.
He was leaving for Sweden next week,
he would not be back for a long while
it would feel like forever autumn
before I would get to see his smile.
With my bright eyes full of wretched tears
that were falling halfway down my cheek,
I swallowed the big lump in my throat
before I could start to softly speak.
“Like a bridge over troubled waters
I will gladly lay me down with you.
We will frolic in your white satin
and I’ll prove my love for you is true.”
Take a random list of five song titles and write a poem using them. I’ve used some of my favourites:- Whiter shade of pale Bridge over troubled waters Forever Autumn Bright eyes Nights in white satin
Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
will shelter you well beneath its bough.
Wild cyclamen planted round its feet
are nodding to make your day complete.
Yellow roses in a simple spray
brought here to celebrate your birthday
by your friends, your nearest and dearest,
in the place you chose to take your rest.
In the spring, our snowdrops will push through
and English bluebells will cover you.
Wild anemones over your head
will wander above your resting bed.
We’ll come back then and scatter seeds
to flower freely amongst the weeds.
Not really weeds, just nature’s flowers
‘neath that memorial tree of ours.
May all these flowers bloom, as you did,
and brighten this woodland place amid
the thistles, grasses and the nettles
under this cherry tree’s pink petals.
And may you lie in peace and rest
beneath that tree you loved the best.
And may our flowers bloom and spread
over your green tranquil woodland bed.
With apologies to A E Houseman for stealing his first line
The poems that you often read
are the opening of one’s heart,
the revelation of one’s soul
which deny you from the start.
Not a whit can pass unknown –
one’s whole heart is disrupt,
but profit comes to those who learn
and do not interrupt.
You wrote me a letter last Sunday week,
and in it were words that I heard you speak
when we were alone that Saturday night,
and you left me there in such a plight.
Why did you go, won’t you come back? Continue reading →
Underworld – Caliban’s Dream Youtube video tells most of the story of how Great Britain excelled herself this year in all her glory.
London Twenty Twelve opening ceremony went without a hitch,
unlike the early mix up of the Korean flags on Cardiff’s football pitch.
Two hundred and four countries entered their Olympic team
of hopeful young atheletes hoping to achieve their lifetime dream.
Never before has anyone witnessed such a magnificent scene
depicting Great Britain’s events in recent history that there have been.
Our Great British humour just had to take a big part
as James Bond helped our Queen “parachute” in for the start,
then as our music was played by orchestral string
our Mr Bean was on the piano, doing his thing.
Life is an express train heading towards your grave.
No matter how much you do, or what time you save,
you’ll be getting there faster than you’ll ever know,
so get on and enjoy life before it’s time to go!
Dishevelled, unkempt and there all alone
she sprawled by the lamp post outside my home.
Where had she come from, and where had she been?
Had she been scared by some sight that she’d seen? Continue reading →
Oh to have these pretty pictures framed and hung upon my wall,
they bring back such pleasant memories that seem to say it all.
But I’ve lost the better photos that my lovely daughter took
and all that I have got left now are these prints that do not look
like they will last much longer before the vibrant colour fades,
and they will lose all their bright detail and their beautiful shades!
I am sitting here now at my desk, crying into my cup
so I think I’d better go away and do the washing up!
While there’s life there’s hope, they say,
so you must always live today
as if it will be your last.
Never mind about the past –
today is your future and your present –
you must never waste your time in deep lament.