Your eyes shine

There so far distant
Your eyes shine like the pole star
Guiding me forward

Now you glance at me
I feel weakness at the knees
My heart missed a beat

There is kindness there
As we are then introduced
Your hand is gentle

Like a baby's kiss
Warm as a cosy fireside
Smile full of promise

We chatted awhile
You then asked for my iPhone
Put your number in

Ring me tomorrow
I'd like to see you again
Your eyes shone once more

Image found at www.lifezen.in/blog/eye-monologues-report/

Election time in Australia

Election time hurrah!
In Australia now
If registered to vote
It is compulsory
It is mandatory
Your really must do it
If you don't you are fined
But that is still OK
As all you have to do
Go to the polling booth

Get name crossed off the roll

For then you can decide

If you want to or not

You could fold up your paper

Without a mark on it

Place it in the ballot box

Then have done your duty

Your vote is informal

Just doesn’t count at all

But if you really care

Who governs the country

Your representative

That’s for the lower house

You must number every box

In preference order

For the Senate it changes

You number six at least

Above the special line

In the little boxes

Representing parties

But alternatively

Below the line you can

Vote for individuals

But in order of course

Numbering at least twelve

Finished? Very well done

If only we could get

Government we deserve

After all that hard work

Image found at www.straitstimes.com

Do you floss?

Oh no, not again
Time for check up I was told
Trip to the dentist

First the hygienist
So they charge a little more
Kids pictures on walls

Adult now feels small
Finally sees dentist
He asks, "Do you floss?"

Naturally I lied
Hygienist has just done it
I nodded of course

Think we'll book you in
That old filling looks nasty
For he wants me back

Latest model car
Is in the showroom window
He needs my business

Image found at www.lifehacker.com

Junk

"Three dollars left, I must treat myself to something," said Sybil. "There's a fete down at the church, I'll get down there early in case it's hot later."

Sybil, was a lonely woman who lived by herself. She immediately answered with her other self. "No, no. Its better to go later when they sell off the goods cheap." Again the first Sybil took over to indicate that all good stuff would be gone by then. Eventually the conversation ended when she persuaded herself to go early after all.

The sun was already very warm as she left home and her trusty brolly which was her faithful companion was used as a sunshade. It was a ten minute walk to the fete and every step was a trial and she arrived panting. Little beads of sweat had formed around her lips and her arms felt prickly in her dress.

The brightly colored booths were busy with activity as the stallholders finished stocking their tables and readied themselves for the opening. Already there were a few anxious customers like Sybil hoping to pick over the wares. Sybil could also see the dealers ganging together, chatting among themselves waiting for the official to let them all in. Glancing at his watch and array of stalls he looked at the eager crowd of buyers and said "Off you go then!"

The stampede of men women and children took him by surprise and he was lucky not to be bowled over. Sybil too was caught up in the rush and a few seconds found herself close to a bric-a-brac and junk jewellery stall. She was bent over the trestle when she spied a black necklace and a matching set of black earrings in a bowl of oddments. With one movement she grasped them both and asked the pretty snub nosed teenage stall holder, "How much for these?"

The girl replied almost without looking at Sybil, "A dollar each in that bowl."

The girl was distracted by another customer and took the two dollars offered with barely a nod of her head. Sybil slipped away from the stall and stood in the shade of a tree to better examine her find.

When she opened her hand she examined the two pieces. They reminded her of some Victorian mourning jewellery that her own grandmother had possessed many years ago. The earrings were a tapering three stone pendant of faceted jet with a gold screw fastener. The necklace used the same sized stones in a repetitive pattern and were fastened with a gold snap at the back.

Sybil looked lovingly at them and placed them in her handbag.

"What have you got there?" she coyly asked herself.

"You have done very well Sybil," she replied.

She continued to browse the stalls but felt so tired that had to find somewhere to sit down. At the tea and coffee stall she sat down on an empty seat to rest. The sun was really hot now and the crowd was thick and noisy. She considered going home but it seemed so far. She just remained seated.

She closed her eyes and let the sounds and smells of fete wash over her. She heard the clinking of tea cups, the buzz of conversation and smell of barbecued sausages and onions. There were some children shouting and screaming with glee on the bouncy castle and she imagined she was young again too. She remembered playing in the stream with her brother, fishing for tiddlers and sticklebacks. Now she could see her Jack looking so proud of her on their wedding day. Then she lifted her baby Tessie in her arms and hugged her tight to her breast.

As she did so the others in the refreshment stall could see her grasp herself round her chest as she rocked her baby in her arms so many years ago. She sat there like that with her eyes closed for some time and was only brought out of her reverie by a gentle shaking of her shoulders by a priest.

"Are you all right? He asked her gently. Then he continued, "would you like a lift home?

Sybil looked up and nodded. he quickly summoned help and in no time she was riding in a car back to her little apartment. The lady who drove her back helped inside and fussed around her ensuring she was settled in a chair and tried to make tea for her too.

Safe inside her own home Sybil just wanted to be alone. She endured the woman's presence until she was recovered then said to her, "I mustn't keep you any more, you should get back to your job at the fete." The woman looked doubtful but eventually agreed that she should.

Sybil breathed a sigh of relief when she had gone. She drew her handbag close to her and opened it eagerly. As she drew out the shiny black jewelry and put it on she crooned, "Now who is a clever girl, Sybil?"

The Last Kiss

My first piece with Sunday Scribblings was on October 3rd 2009 and only my third ever post as a blogger. I had found a home and my first piece was called “The First Kiss.”

This is my 204^th offering to this prompt site and I am reluctant and sad to let go.

So perhaps it is fitting to write a piece which echoes this sentiment.

 

The Last Kiss

I received a phone message many years ago not long after I became married that my grandmother; my father’s mother had died.

So driving the few miles up to her home where she had lived all my life I paid my last respects. She still lay in the bed she used in the ground floor living room and her daughters were there waiting for the undertaker.

We had when I was much younger lived three doors down the street. When, at five I started school, World War 2 had started and thinking that I had learned enough on the first day I refused to go on the second. So in order to get my older brother to school on time I was dumped on “Granny” for the day. I think she was quite pleased as I know now being a granddad myself many times over, forming a bond with a little one is a privilege as well as a treat. It makes you feel younger and important again even though lots of explaining is necessary; little fingers touch the creases in your face and their games are often played with rules you had quite forgotten.

So that was what I remembered as I was taken to her bed by my aunts. My own long lost childhood came back yet I was then unaware of having children or grandchildren of my own. I looked at her peaceful face and automatically bent over to kiss her goodbye. I said goodbye to a part of me and it was one more step in making me a complete person. I turned and saw that both aunts were wiping away their tears.

I have returned to that street a number of times. It draws me back like a sirens call to the land where the building blocks that made me were put together.

 

A sweet kiss to Sunday Scribblings

 

A short guide to phobias

 

Dentophobia or fear of dentists

Men all seem to have this curse

So we’re glad there’s a cute dental nurse

 

Acrophobia or fear of heights 

It scares me when on buildings tall 

Lest I waver then I fall

Frigophibia or fear of the cold

My girlfriend’s fear allows me to be close

To kiss her pretty nose and toes

Gymnophobia or fear of being naked

Showing all puts most to shame

As we’re not all built the same

Gynophobia or fear of women

Luckily I am not so afflicted

The reverse in fact, I’m addicted

Poor spelling bee

                                     Dead Spelling Bee

 

English language has pride of place                     

It’s borrowed from many other place                      

But I fear that this will not last                      

It’s use by date is nearly past                                  

Now tears from my eyes are welling                      

As we tinker with it’s spelling                                  

I can just make sense of Wot and Ware                    

But there’s more that I cannot bear            

If Froot Loops now is greater                        

What words 4U will be OK l8r?                               

 

Photo found at wired.co.uk

The wind is his friend

The wind is his friend

Nothing ruffles his feathers

Sky is the limit

 

He sees the whole world

And feasts on its vast splendour

His mate is waiting

 

The prey unaware

The nest of chicks need feeding

He dives for a kill

Et cetera and the rest

I always thought it was a lazy word             

As though the speaker’s mind was blurred           

I’d rather hear a word quite absurd            

Et cetera is best unheard     

                                   

Really, borrowed words such as this                     

Must certainly not be hit or miss                             

But meaningful and sound like bliss                       

Then the speaker will deserve a kiss                     

 

So from my rhyme I must be gone              

And to avoid sounding like a moron                      

Please remove it from your lexicon            

“and others; and so forth; and so on”                     

 

The baby boy

Shall I tell that girl

How I want to kiss the curl

On her pretty head?

 

As I kiss her nose

And compare her to a rose

Would she want to wed?

  

To walk hand in hand

Glance at her wedding band

And down aisle be led

 

And we’d laugh with joy

When our baby is a boy

Tucked up in his bed

 

photo:blackgirllonghair.com

Potted (potty) Aesop

I thought three of Aesop's fables could be retold in haiku form to get good value for money.

1. Boy floundering in river

 Boy drowning calls help

Scolded for his carelessness 

“Save me! Moan later”

 Moral – Help first, admonish after 

2. Crow and pitcher

Thirsty crow finds jug

Water there but cannot reach

Drops stones to raise up

Moral – Results achieved little by little

3. Dove and the Ant

Ant fell in river

Dove dropped twig to save him

Ant bites dove’s hunter

Moral – Every good turn deserves another

Mahuikas Tales No. 10. Hinemoa and Tutanekai

This story was also posted on the Sunday Scribblings site as their prompt was Myth this week. Hopefully Mahuika will return next week to relieve the teenager Hekeheke of the temporary task she was left with. To find my other stories just click Mahuika on the Labels bar.                      


                                                                                                                                                                  


  









Mokoia Island on Lake Rotorua

Having told her first story to the children while Mahuika was visiting Black Sands, Hekeheke became more confident and decided to tell a longer story next time. It was one that had always been her favourite. With all the children gathered around her she began.

A long time ago there lived a beautiful and high ranking young maiden (puhi) by the name of Hinemoa, the daughter of a very important chief at the time. They lived at Owhata on the eastern shores of Lake Rotorua where I used to live. Because of her rank, Hinemoa was not permitted to meet young men by herself. A husband would be chosen for her by her family and their tribe. Many young men came from far and wide to offer to marry her whose beauty was well known. However none of the suitors gained the approval to wed her.
On Mokoia Island in the centre of Lake Rotorua lived a family of several brothers. Tutanekai was the youngest of them. His mother had had an illicit affair with Tuwharetoa who came from another tribe and later Tutanekai was born. Luckily his mother’s husband was a kind man and agreed to take his wife back and to raise Tutanekai as his own son as he still loved her and did not want to give her up.

Each of the Tutanaki’s elder brothers had declared their love for Hinemoa and set out to win her hand, but none of them won approval from Hinemoa's people.
Whenever visitors came to Hinemoa’s village for meetings many young chiefs saw Hinemoa and fell in love with her. Tutanekai knew however because of his lowly birth that he would never win approval from Hinemoa's family. Tutanekai however was extremely handsome and excelled at the games of the time when the whole village and their neighbours would come to watch the men compete. It was Tutanekai's skill in these events and his good looks which caught Hinemoa's eye. She fell in love with Tutanekai and at each tribal meeting they would search each other out and look at one another. Sadly they were only able only to convey their feelings through their secret glances of longing and had never spoken as that was forbidden as she was puhi.

Neither of them could see any way their love would ever be fulfilled. Tutanekai would sit on the shores of Mokoia Island with his friend Tiki and play sad music on his flute. On very still evenings his music would reach across the lake to where Hinemoa also sat thinking of him with longing as she knew that it was him playing. She was full of sadness as knew she could never marry anyone but Tutanekai. Her family began to suspect she wanted a man they considered unsuitable and in order to prevent her sneaking away by herself pulled all the canoes on the lakes edge far from the water as they were too heavy for her to move by herself.
Night after night she listened to the music of her would be lover until her heart was breaking with sadness and she knew she could take no more. It was then she decided, if she could not use a canoe, she would have to swim. The next night, she told her people she was going to watch the evening entertainment, but in fact she headed for the lakefront, after collecting six calabashes from the cooking house. She rested by the rock named Iri iri kapua while she tied the calabashes together to form floats.
She then slipped in to the water at a beach called Wairerewai and swam for Mokoia in the dark heading for the sound of the flute being played by Tutanekai. She finally made it to Mokoia Island, but she had become so cold during her swim, she headed straight for a hot pool there named Waikimihia close to Tutanekai's house.

Once she had warmed herself, Hinemoa realised she was naked and was too shy to approach Tutanekai's house without clothes. It so happened at this time Tutanekai became thirsty, so he sent his servant down to fetch a calabash of water. The servant had to pass quite close to where Hinemoa sat in the hot spring warming herself. As he passed the pool, Hinemoa in a gruff voice called out to him 'Mo wai te wai?' (For whom is the water?) The slave answered; ‘Mo Tutanekai' (For Tutanekai) 'give it to me' demanded Hinemoa, and as soon as the slave did so she smashed the calabash on a rock at the side of the pool. When the slave returned to Tutanekai and told him what had happened, Tutanekai made him go again. Again Hinemoa challenged the slave and once again smashed the calabash. 

This time Tutanekai became angry and decided to go down to the pool himself. He dressed himself, and took a flat weapon made of greenstone called a mere and headed for the pool. Once there, he challenged whoever was in the pool to show themselves. No one moved. Hinemoa had shifted under a hanging rock which provided some protection for her naked body. She stayed there still and quiet. Then, Tutanekai felt around the edge of the rock and came to where Hinemoa hid. He grabbed her by her long hair and pulled her clear. 'Who are you and why do you annoy me?' he cried.
She answered, 'I am Hinemoa…I have come...to you'. Tutanekai couldn't believe his ears. And when she stepped out of the water, he was sure he had never seen such a beautiful woman in all his life. Tutanekai took off his cloak and wrapped it about Hinemoa picked her up and took her to his whare to sleep. 

The next morning the people of the village rose to prepare the morning meal and remarked that Tutanekai was sleeping late that morning, as he normally was up first. After a while, his father began to think he might be ill so sent a servant to check on him. The slave went to Tutanekai's whare and as he peeked in saw four feet instead of two poking out from beneath the covers. The slave ran back to report this to his master and was sent back to investigate further. It was then he recognised Hinemoa. Such was his surprise, he began to call out 'It is Hinemoa. It is Hinemoa who lies with Tutanekai'.
The brothers would not believe the slave, and nor did any one else, but with all the noise Tutanekai stepped from his house with Hinemoa on his arm. It was then the people noticed canoes heading toward the island, and knew it was Hinemoa's family. They feared a battle would be fought and thought Hinemoa would be taken away from Tutanekai forever. 

At this point all the boys listening got excited because they thought there would be a battle.

Upon arrival her father asked where his daughter was. She appeared holding Tutaneki's hand pulling him forward. Her father then accepted that she had chosen Tutanekai herself so there was much rejoicing between the two tribes and lasting peace maintained between them as they knew now that the couple were meant for each other.

When Hekeheke finished the story all the girls looked pleased but the boys were cross as there had not been any fighting. Once again she realized that each would remember the story for different reasons. She smiled and was happy with the way she had told the story, but she still wanted Mahuika to come back soon as telling stories was not easy.

Alone by the fire

 

 

Alone by the fire

There’s one spark in the embers

But more in the skies

 

Each one speaks to me

But I still wish they were you

To hold my hand now

 

Winter and spring come

Summer taunts and passes by

But autumn’s here now

 

And tears like the leaves

Fall in memory of you

Dancing in my heart

Full of her

 

It’s the eyes for me

That are the gateway to love

But of course there’s more

 

Who knows why the nose

Seeks my special attention

That’s also on the list

 

Her cheeky grin means

I'll fall in her tempting trap

The best place to be

 

When she speaks to me

I know I am hers for life

Filled with her passion

 

We touch each other

And then explode with desire

We are one being

A short bio

Blinking and crying

Watching and laughing

Learning and competing

Eying and wondering

Running and playing

Fumbling and romancing

Absorbing and working

Wooing and promising

Praying and thanking

Rejoicing and changing

Sitting and basking

Giving and losing

Tiring and changing

Grieving and despairing

Slowing and dying

My redhead

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yes, she had red hair

Pale skin and eyes to die for

But it was her smile

 

That drew me to her

Should have thought of my father

“Do not play with fire”

 

That is what he said

I do remember that now

It hurt quite a lot

 

It was all worth while

Oh yes, I can see that now

Her smile was red hot

Does a porpoise have a purpose?

Does a porpoise have a purpose?            

And is there meaning to our lives?             

Why do we congregate together                            

Like those busy bees in their hives?                          

 

There’s that famous line in ‘Grand Hotel’              

Garbo said “I want to be alone”                              

She must have had a premonition                         

Soon all would have a mobile phone                     

 

I am a loner and I love it                                           

What bliss there is in solitude                                 

Breathing in the air unsullied                                   

Vacuuming the house in the nude