Saturday, 28 November 2015
Across the gibber plains
I look far to the naked hills
Across the stony gibber plains
It's winter but the day is hot
Sharp is the focus of my sight
But clarity's now drowned by sweat
The many flies in this wilderness
Wanting shade inside my felt hat
There's no river to quench my thirst
And no breeze to cool my hot brow
First explorers hopes here were dashed
That longed to find an inland sea
They found nothing in this dead world
But they were wrong as they can be
Birds wings fluttered and creatures crawled
Where men so often fear to tread
Emus, Kites, Gibberbirds, Dingos too
You'll find them stalking for smaller prey
Geckos, desert mice and snakes galore
Humans too when they've lost their way
Image top found at www.travelling-australia.com
Image bottom found at www.jenniferspryausbirding.blogspot.com
Labels:
Australia,
Outback,
Poetry,
Poets United,
The Sunday Whirl,
Wild
Jealous eyes
Do you remember years ago
Life's adventure was growing up
You just couldn't wait to begin
From baby steps to giant leaps
Never was much beyond our dreams
Sky the limit and much, much more
No door was ever closed to us
For that never entered our mind
The mayor might give us a prize
But that age has now passed us by
Forgotten now by one and all
Our target now is just good health
Senior ways now do hold us fast
With aching limbs and greying hair
We watch the young with jealous eyes
Image of old men watching cricket found at www.the guardian.com
Keep on writing
I'm always tired now
Even at the break of day
At the sun's welcome
I wept late last night
Silly me looking at photos
All those old ones gone
It is a struggle
To remember all their names
Relatives and friends
They had mixed feelings
Who said it was not much fun
Approaching a ton
I had a look at
Their black and white photographs
When times were hard
One did say to me
That he did not look forward
To being a freak
I'm reading a book
The hundred year old man who
climbed out the window
and disappeared by
the Swedish author who is
Jonas Jonasson
Hope I'm that active
And use all my memories
To keep on writing
Image found at www.amazon.com
This is my 99th post to Sunday Scribblings 2. I missed a prompt last Christmas when I was in the wilds of Tasmania!
Wednesday, 25 November 2015
The old dusty bottle
Edmund had kept the precious bottle of wine for many years in a cool dark place saying "We'll open that on our anniversary" to his wife Jean but sadly she sought the company of angels before that event.
Heartbroken, even he forgot that old dusty bottle now aged to perfection in the cellar and became a recluse living in the past.
Old Man Time's hand then too reached down for Edmund for him to pay his respects to those in heaven.
Edmund's family came down from up north to the funeral and dispose of the furniture and effects but there was nothing they wanted except a few family photos.
So they arranged for their father's next door neighbors, the Burke's to arrange the disposal of everything else and told them to take anything they fancied and even paid them for that service.
Jim Burke and his wife happily did that as they had been friends with the old couple for many years and soon the place was emptied except for the cellar and they were surprised to find a bottle of Australian Penfold Grange 1971 wine there worth the best part of $1000 waiting for them.
Image found at www.winehouse.com.au
Working hard
Oh what strange creatures we are
Living our lives without a care
Playing, laughing here and there
Learning, toiling
Eyeing, flirting
Losing, hurting
Until that day
We find the one
That now makes our world complete
Then we two unite as one
Working hard out in the sun
Resting when the day is done
Digging, sowing
Blooming, growing
Loving, making
Birthing, rearing
For we're the ones
Surviving now in our embrace
Image of "L'Angelus" by Jean-Francois Millet found at www.jmhosting.space.com
Questions
My thoughts are jumbled
No longer can I see straight
Age wearies me now
Mirror where am I?
My illustrious past gone
Gurgling down the drain
Young man do you hide?
Gone my habitual ways
Frail in mind and limb
I scent treachery
Where have all the flowers gone?
I feel so weedy
Lover where are you?
Pretty girls all in a row
They look not on me
Image found at www.pinterest.com
Saturday, 21 November 2015
Break of Day
It was now early morning
I looked across the valley
A mist was rising, drifting
Through the shadowy treetops
Sun's brilliant morning light
Revealing hidden treasures
Now before my watchful eyes
While her warmth enlivens all
The secret world before me
Silver sparkling water falls
Into the abyss below
Birds sing their holy carols
To the new born break of day
Tidings of great joy for all
My flesh quivers with delight
Wild nature tames even me
Strolling over that hill's pass
My happy face glows with tears
Image found at www.boombeat.com
Labels:
Nature,
Poetry,
Poets United,
The Sunday Whirl,
Walking
Winter's coming
Now far from the barbaric world
I hide in my forest retreat
Late afternoon stroll with my friends
Blackbirds whistling in the bushes
Autumn leaves snowing from the trees
Now whirling around at my feet
Rhythm of the woodpeckers beak
Making ready his winter home
Pantomime performance takes place
As squirrels stash their winters feast
Their cheeks full moving back and forth
Overhead the stillness now pierced
By hunting birds of prey screaming
Like arguing bawds in a city street
It's been a bad day for business
Setting sun now darkens my path
I breathe in the scent of evening
Nearby owl ruffles his feathers
Preparing for his long night shift
But I feel calm now all is well
So I make my way slowly home
Image found at www.yubanet.com
That inescapable fact
She knew that the truth
Was that I loved her so much
And so tenderly
We were miles apart
In our age and our thinking
But that changed nothing
Just to kiss her nose
Even to brush her long hair
Would be a delight
To breathe in her scent
To walk along holding hands
Never letting go
So we were in love
That inescapable fact
Was not lost on us
There for us always
We do not talk about that
It's all about trust
Image found at www.f9view.com
Thursday, 19 November 2015
The Girl from Bridge Street
The Brige lane girl
When I was young I lived in a small town with small town people with petty ideas about who was OK and who wasn't.
So those who lived across in Bridge Street were somehow not like us for there was a class divide except that Maisie Young was in the same class as me at school and when I looked at her she looked right back at me and smiled.
I used to walk her home and once over the bridge with the river running below I dared to hold her hand for it was soft and warm and that put a smile on both our faces.
It was my brother that told on us to my Dad who shook his head and I looked across at Ma who for some reason was looking down not saying a word as Dad raved on about finding a better class of girl to walk home with.
Later on as I was helping her with the dishes, putting them away and sorting out the cutlery she whispered to me, "I came from Bridge Street son, your Dad has forgotten that.
Childhood romances don't often last and that was such a long time ago but even today I think of her and wonder what lucky man married her.
Image found at www.picturesofengland.com
Wednesday, 18 November 2015
Her enigmatic smile
With her enigmatic smile
Lucy was was much sought after
Boys would grovel at her feet
Only to be spurred of course
She was a stunner to be sure
But I thought I'd stay aloof
I could see she wanted more
Eager swains are faulty beaus
And so it was she who fell
For this quiet gentle youth
Who waited for that special sign
Of surrender and she was mine
Image found at www.reddit.com
Without Mercy
I was so intrigued
When I saw the fire in her eyes
That wicked grin on her cute face
The night when we were introduced
"This here is Mercy"
With no other explanation
I nodded at her and she stared back
"Yeah, you'll do" and grabbed my hand
Dragged me to the bar
Where we both drank ourselves silly
Well you know the rest, she was great
I was with her a month or so
"You never asked me"
She said once in a sober mood
"About my name" So I replied
"Names are not who we really are"
"Please don't read my mind"
She said as I touched her soft arm
Then I knew it was the last time
And she was about to ditch me
Like some Greek drama
Searching always for who she was
Going through trials and torments
Never to be close to anyone
Image forund at www.instagram24.com
Sunday, 15 November 2015
So many years ago
I remember old Ted Wilson
Us boys saw him in the forest
That was so many years ago
Lived in this old timber shack
With smoke coming out the chimney
Blue snake drifting up to heaven
Ted was a rough diamond Dad said
Poor as a church mouse Mum chipped in
I saw he had dirty fingernails
Grimy overalls, smutty voice
Not that us kids minded that not us
He had one of those old tin baths
Just hanging on a nail outside
All rusted through no good at all
Not that he had a use for it
Don't think he had friends either
Just had this dog that welcomed us
A mutt of doubtful parentage
That ran round and round in circles
When we passed because he liked us
One day we got caught in the rain
So ran back there for shelter
Old Ted took us in to dry off
The wood flared up as he poked it
The dog wagged his tail then backed off
When the tongues of flame shot upwards
The rain beat against the window
But that was many years ago
He's been long gone now my dad too
Both served in the war together
Sadly when he got home again
His wife had been killed by a bomb
And he never got over that
Image found at www.scotmacinnis.com
Labels:
Childhood,
Forest,
Melancholy,
Memories,
Poetry,
Poets United,
Sunday Whirligig,
War
Saturday, 14 November 2015
Waiting for his chance
Seven small sparrows
peck, peck, still pecking
sat on the dishes rim
and the icy surface
where once water was
filled to the very brim
Black cat watches them
looks with greedy eyes
silent in his stance
at this morning feast
moves not one muscle
now waiting for his chance
Dog meanwhile is sitting
at the windowsill
looks right then to left
barks as pussy moves
birds flutter away
freezing cat is bereft
Master laughs out loud
pussy now walks aloof
to level up the score
scrapes a hole to use
scrambles off up fence
nameless cat seen no more
Image 1 found at www.frayedattheedge.typepad.co.uk
Image 2 found at www.fineartamerica.com
Velvet Dreams
I have velvet dreams
They are about you of course
Softness in your touch
There are your green eyes
That look at me that sweet way
Oh so tenderly
As we walk along
You then slip your hand in mine
Because we are one
In the night I wake
To hear you breathe so softly
And feel so at home
I have velvet dreams
Belonging to you always
Wherever we are
Image found at www.picslist.com
Thursday, 12 November 2015
The bread bin
Many, many years ago two young boys had been left alone during the school holidays with both parents at work so they spent the day playing outside in the yard until the rain came down so they rushed back inside and so did the cat who didn't like the rain at all.
They played for an hour or so with their toys before hunger took hold of them and they searched the house for something to eat but they could find nothing.
Brian finally remembered the bread bin and lifting the lid they found only two crusts left so they both grabbed one while the cat looked on.
"We can't leave it empty" Robin said, so Brian grabbed the cat and put him inside then put the lid back on while they went back to playing with their own toys waiting for their mother to come home.
She was not pleased to find the house in disarray, the cat howling in the bread bin, her shopping still to put away and a meal to prepare before their father came home, so the boys were sent to their bedrooms hungry...except for one who still had his crust of bread stuffed up his jumper.
That boy was me in war torn England in 1943.
Wednesday, 11 November 2015
What did my wife say?
I look down at him
Neither of us move an inch
He looks up at me
Mexican stand off
Measuring each others worth
Him snake, me human
I'm standing stock still
Venom in his eyes and elsewhere
Can I distract him?
He wiggles his tail
Turns then quietly glides away
Stalemate for today
What did my wife say?
Make sure you mow that long grass
Yes, I remember now
Image found at www.asopa.typepad.com
Whisper to me
Whisper to me silver stream
Bubbling from the mountainside
Of all that you've seen and done
As through this land you gently flow
From that trickle in the heights
Racing down narrow valleys
Tumbling, chuckling over rocks and falls
Rippling through the hills wide arms
Sing along with me my love
As you wend across the plain
Then you curve out of my reach
To rejoin me waiting later on
Now you quench the farmers stock
Fill his dams and watercourses
Keep his growing crops alive
Then flow right on to others call
Mighty water wheels you've turned
Powering mills and factories too
Working men say their prayers
For nought would come without you
Graceful trees grow at your side
Many creatures call you home
Man sails along and makes canals
Pipes your water far afield
Slowly you flow to journey's end
As you join the mighty sea
Rest my love your task's now done
You have reached your final home
Images found at:
1. www.infinityrodcreations.com
2. www.discoveringsouthafrica.com
Saturday, 7 November 2015
Nature's call
Early morning view over Wye Valley
Awakened now from last night's dream
Those eerie pictures did not seem
So strange as I donned my clothes
For adventure's call had come
It was natures call I chose
Vapid night now came to life
Translucent dawn like sleepy wife
Stretched and yawned to smile on me
Tweeting birds did spin up above
Cat hid and snarled but did not move
I walked in early morning's light
Spurred by visions of the night
It's creatures now danced for me
I walked to the forest's edge
Crunching across the frosty sedge
I climbed the hill to a copses rim
Trampling across the farmer's grid
Waved my hand to old scarecrow
Rooks were there and they greeted me
I turned to view the river valley
My eyes panned from west to east
Morn's stunning entrance greeted me
The valley floor laid out below
Misty waters held me its grip
Glad I was I had made this trip
Image found at www.wyevalleywalk.org
The anxious beau
Mysterious ways has the human mind
Shining then saddening to despair
For I am grumpy like an angry bear
Surely there's happiness we could find
If we could only live in our dreams
Comforted by sun's and moon's bright beams
If only you could see me and not be blind
I would swagger as we met each day
Sadly we pass with not a word to say
I note your hair and your eyes so kind
But with sorrow you don't see me there
Surely it's not that you have no care
I think that one day you'll look behind
And will smile and greet me as a friend
This love I have you'll comprehend
Then my pride will be undefined
That this miracle has been achieved
So I can swagger, my fears relieved
My anxious brow be no longer lined
Dark sorrow from my mind would go too
With our wrists entwined as lovers do
Image found at www.istockphotos.com
The Cabin Boy
The Cabin Boy by Ralph Hedley |
Fifteen I was on my first voyage
Mother cried for she had this presage
"A sailor you?" her face my last visage
As she bade farewell from her cottage
To Portsmouth you go was the message
Cabin boy, deep south was the passage
Enduring hard work the long voyage
And such foul weather did us ravage
Strange people we saw with odd language
Some to fear because they were savage
Seas too were fierce for us to manage
Swear words I now learned in their usage
Seas were rough and food in shortage
On this vessel there was no wastage
No place to go for we were hostage
Until we had found safe anchorage
Months is was after such rough mileage
We sailed in port after this haulage
Sydney Town to disgorge our stowage
Though so much was ruined by spoilage
Has this trip added to my knowledge?
Or did part of me suffer damage
No, for now I do have the courage
The better for my life to manage
It has all been to my advantage
I've seen the wide world and come of age
I have grown but not suffered damage
And now ashore even eat cabbage!
Image found at www.artrenewal.org
Thursday, 5 November 2015
Close to her
I was doing my duty at another boring cocktail party of a friend trying to look interested as people talked, laughed and joked around me while I observed others in the room wondering if I slipped away whether anyone would miss me.
More couple were coming through the door and as I glanced that way I noticed a raven haired beauty arrive accompanied by her husband, beau or whatever who seeing a male buddy left his partner who then searched the room for someone she knew to talk to.
It was then that our eyes met and we both stared at each other for ages which in reality was only a couple of seconds and when I raised my glass to her she hesitated at first then slowly made her way through the crush of people to be at my side.
There and then, close to her I was astounded for her eyes were laughing at me as I told her my name and she told me hers; I got her a drink all the time drinking her in myself and in the end I blurted out "You are so beautiful, I would never abandon you in a place like this for others to steal you away."
"Is that you intention?" she asked smiling as dimples formed in her cheeks and by that action prompted me to let my right hand reach down to touch her left hand to check the rings on her fingers.
She leaned close to me and said "I was warned about you, I am glad to find that all they said about you is true, so what is your plan?"
Image found at www.aprilbraswell.com
Wednesday, 4 November 2015
A battle is fought
Our calm now broken
Skies give way to invaders
Ragged clouds now groan
The view is darkened
By unsightly bullying
Pushing and shoving
Spitting with wild rage
Now threatening destruction
To drive us indoors
Seen from the windows
We the conflagration
A battle is fought
The wind howls with pain
A deluge now descending
To feed the good earth
Image found at www.m.the jakartapost.com
Finding solitude
Not a whisper of sound
All is placid today
The sun now wakes yawning
For to wish me good day
The hens they are scratching
The cat settles for sleep
He'll not tell his story
His dark secrets will keep
The wild things now call me
I head for the forest
To commune with nature
Those dear friends I love best
The owl will be sleeping
His crop now full of mice
The red fox slinks away
Sees me, gone in a trice
I rest by the streamlet
Water gurgling away
It counts not the day's hours
Nor what others say
In the distance a church bell
Calling faithful to pews
Rooks call high up above
Gossiping their day's news
I sit on a tree stump
A snake slithers away
I breath in the freshness
To refuel my whole day
The forest accepts me
For I do it no harm
It's where I feel welcome
When I leave all is calm
Image found at www.griffmonster-walks.blogspot.com
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