New paintings and regular art updates.
A heart in the bottom of my mucky mug.
Like a parchment map of old
Stained shape of hidden treasure
And a bit like Plutos bold
Heart impaled on its frosty ground
Making it’s tiny world go round
Hearts bring me cheer
Makes me remember
He once was here.
So I write a poem to remind me
While on the cooker I’m burning tea!
They give you flowers
To salve your loss
To show they care.
I feel so grateful
To be remembered
But the need of a vase
Can be a problem.
I found one at last.
Flowers setted
Rejoyce in their beauty
Half of me was wrenched away
Just six weeks ago, today
Now you’re gone through that door
And I will see your face no more,
We weren’t close, but still I knew
My life and yours, linked as two
Souls that shared a single birth
Both of us, a childhoods hearth.
Still I think you will call me up
We’ll talk a while over a cup
Or two of tea, and a scone
But really I know you’re gone.
I can’t forget, but I will begin
To think you’re in the sky, a star, my twin.
The Russians continue to try and take over Ukraine and its citizens. They have run a referendum in the south and east of Ukraine to see whether the people there would vote to rejoin Russia. Four regions were balloted. Russian soldiers went door to door with guns and got people to vote for Russia. They have announced a 96% vote in favour. But these referenda were not free and fair.
The annexation is illegal, but Putin will use it to say parts of Ukraine are now Russian soil. Then he has threatened any fighting to try and take it back could result in the use of Nuclear weapons. This is madness. Seven months into a war on European land this must stop.
Other things that have happened include damage to the Nordstream one and two gas pipelines bringing gas to Europe from Russia. Methane gas a kilometer wide US bubbling up from the baltic sea.
Ukraine continues to be bombarded but the army is fighting back. Where it will end? No one knows.
Fed up with being ill. Not Covid, but a cold/ chest infection. But I’m getting bored. I feel trapped but that might be a good thing. Perhaps I’m getting better?
Sundays used to be boring when I was a child. Nowhere was open, shops shut, nothing really to visit. If you ran out of milk you could not buy any. Memory of a different world. Time changes things. Then I was waiting for fruit salad with evaporated milk with bread and butter for tea. Watching my mom and dad doing the washing in a boiler in the kitchen that had a mangle on the top and an old spin dryer to get most of the water out. While they did that we played in the garden. Unless the weather was bad. Then I would read a book, or draw. Maybe it wasn’t all that boring?
The poppy appeal this year won’t be able to do door to door collections, the Royal British Legion are urging people to download printable poppies or order them on line. I don’t have the link to their site but I’m sure there are more details available. As with the NHS earlier in the year they are asking people to put pictures in their windows, in this case a picture of a poppy. I will print a copy of this and put it in our window and send them a donation. Poppies have been the symbol of remembrance since the end of the First World War over 100 years ago in 1918. Lest we Forget.
Bonfire night
The fifth of November
Gunpowder plot
Millions of fireworks
Firework displays
Millions of people
In mass crowds
Bonfires burning
Effigies of Guy Fawkes
In top of the fires
The plot was thwarted
The plotters arrested
Remember, remember
The Fifth of November
Gunpowder Treason and Plot
I just read a post on Facebook about a friend who’s neighbours THREE streets away are constantly playing loud music with a strong base beat. I suggested this and remembered a time a long time ago when I had similar problems…
“Can you reply by sitting outside his house in your car with your speakers on full blast playing Mozart?”
“When our old neighbours years ago used to play loud pop music I would wait till it went off late at night then play Mahler or Brahms through the wall at them, full blast…. Talk about passive aggressive. In the end it was so bad it kept the neighbour on the other side awake and she was eight months pregnant. I finally snapped and took my personal alarm, pulled the pin out of it and put my hand through the neighbours letterbox. (it was a terraced house). No one came to the door, so I went to the other neighbour and explained what I’d done. I was just coming out of there and my student neighbours started to come out to catch a taxi to the city centre. I stopped them and asked if they were at the local polytechnic. When they said yes, I asked if that meant they were intelligent. Because wasn’t it obvious that the noise they were making was disturbing their neighbours? They said it hadn’t mattered in the halls of residence, so I politely pointed out this was the ‘real’ world. A bit later the police arrived. I explained what I’d done and they decided to take no action!
X
It is funny how a snatch of music can sometime just spring into your mind. I was just thinking about the fish in my hubbies pond and if they will be OK because of the frosts we are getting.
I just remembered the phrase ‘fish gotta swim, birds gotta fly’ and ‘can’t help loving that man of mine’. I know I like the song, but I can’t remember the singer although I think I know the title! And is it from the opera Porgy and Bess? I might try and learn it.
I am normally an alto when I sing, although I have hardly done any singing recently. I miss choir practice and my friends. I was saying in a previous post I’m not that keen on people, and yet when I think of my friends… Perhaps it’s just strangers I don’t like?…..
Anyway. I might go and look up this song.
X
I was thinking of rhymes I learnt as a child, when into my inbox popped an email. It was a pingback saying that someone had shared the poem “the North Wind shall blow”. It had a copyright sign, but it’s not by me! I don’t know it’s origins, but it’s a lovely poem, well crafted, poignant.
Anyway I’ve let them know. In this Internet age, with so much information it is not surprising that things get lost or forgotten. I learned this when I was a child, which is over fifty years ago!
The other ones I remembered today were:
Georgie Porgy pudding and pie,
kissed the girls and made them cry,
when the boys came out to play,
Georgie Porgy ran away.
And :
See saw, Margery Daw
Jenny shall have a new master,
she shall earn but a penny a day,
because she can’t work any faster!
I guess although these will have been written decades, or perhaps centuries ago, they are still relevant today….
Mallaband-Brown