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Tuesday, April 25, 2017

Emotions

25th April 2017


This was some fun in writing group this morning.
Working to the pattern :

ABAB, ABAB, ABAB
   s    t   s  c t     c                When s= square, t=triangle, c=circle
  

Using the emotion "Fear"

It makes my hands clammy,
This feeling of fear,
It has me running to the loo,
My stomach churning

This feeling of fear,
I'm rooted to the spot
My stomach churning
I can't gather my thoughts

I'm rooted to the spot
Can't wait to get out of here
Can't wait till this is over
Can't wait till things are clear.

Same thing, but using the emotion "Joy"

It makes my heart sing
This felling of joy
Makes me want to dance
And run through a meadow

This feeling of joy,
Puts a spring in my step
And run through a meadow
Looking up to the skies

Puts a spring in my step
If only It could last
But I know it's a fleeting spark
But I'll take it while I can.

Sunday, April 23, 2017

Elevenie - Sun /Goldfish

23 rd April

The challenge for napowrimo today is to write an elevenie poem. Eleven words. Here's my double elevenie, which now makes twenty two words.



Sun / Goldfish

Sun
shining brightly
in clear sky
caressing earth and bones
warmly



Goldfish
circling around
lily pond chasing newts
swimming



Saturday, April 22, 2017

The Studio

22nd April
A day behind but this is for a prompt from napowrimo - "Overheard Speech".

The Studio

No, the studio's great man - I've got it three days a week
And that's enough for you, enough time to fit in your,
you know, your creativity.
Yeah, I sit in the armchair and ponder,
I look at the canvas, then my eye sees the brush,
And then, I close my eyes.
And then you start painting?
Grief, no man, no painting, just sleeping, thinking and maybe,
Smoking...
Smoking?
Yeah, smoking, y'know, getting mellow, that's when it happens...
It happens?
Yeah, it happens...
What, what happens?
Well, I see things, things that will be my paintings
That's great. And then you start painting?
No , man, then I go home and have a bath and maybe,
maybe the next day I might remember something
And bring out a piece of paper
A small piece of paper,
And draw something.


how do you work

Friday, April 21, 2017

Question - SSS

21st April

I'm afraid I haven't done much writing on my blog lately .
I will be back soon.
I was at the  funeral today of our dear friend Fr Charles. He was a very busy apostle, making friends wherever he went. That was evident in how many people came to celebrate his life and pray for his soul.
He was chaplain of our little catholic school, giving of himself to the children, the staff and the parents without a care for himself. They all loved him dearly and wanted to be there for him.
So we had two services.
The first last night when the body was brought into the church  and when nearly all the staff turned up as well as many of the children and their families. Maybe about 250-300 altogether. It was such wonderful mass, full of joy and singing.
And then today for the requiem mass. Again a packed church- 300-400 people again. And again such joy. Fr Charles had chosen the hymns and readings . It was fabulous .I've rarely  seen anything like it.
As part of our parish lunch club team I was with a small group preparing food from 8.30 this morning, which we served to a huge crowd this afternoon, finishing about 5.50 pm.
We are exhausted, but happy.

And now, for the six sentence story challenge for this week:

Question




Monday, April 10, 2017

In Praise Of Sound.

10th April 

Unfortunately I'm still a day behind.  Hopefully I'll get two poems written today .
So the first one, for yesterday :

9th April :
For a few months I have been troubled with poor hearing. It was probably wax and has since cleared up - well almost. Whilst not being able to hear that well I discovered how much I value ( or should value) that particular sense.

In Praise Of Sound

It occurs to me to be thankful 
That I can hear those sounds.
The voice of my husband,
A whisper,
"Are you awake?"
Delicate song of birds greeting 
The day.
Welcome sound of water running 
In the kitchen,
Kettle boiling,
Cups clattering, 
Soft steps on the stair,
When he  brings the tray
With morning tea.

Buzz of a bee circling the garden,
Water bubbling in pond 
Disturbed by fish.
Engine of aeroplane 
In distant blue.
Revving of neighbours car
Like clockwork.
Fluttering sound of trees 
Rustling in the breeze.
Screams of joy from children 
Two garden down.
And the doorbell ringing
Calling me urgently 
To come and answer 

For all the above 
And much, much, more,
I am so thankful









Saturday, April 8, 2017

7th April The Mountain

7th April ( but written on the 8th)

A bit late. Preoccupied yesterday with family coming to stay.

The Mountain

I build a mountain , a monument to passions,
Daily piling on more earth,
The soil of attachments,
Keeping me from getting close
To you

So much stands now in the space between us
The space that isn't space
Filled as it is with life's distractions
Cannot even get close enough
To see you

And all of a sudden it all seems like dust
A pile of nothing but rubbish
And what's important I see now
Is how will  I get  close
To you

So, with a teaspoon I begin to dig at the face
Of the huge mountainside
And little by little with each swing of my arm
I Throw the dirt behind until I get
To you





Thursday, April 6, 2017

6th April- Strangled

6th April


Strangled

Ivy and brambles grow tight into the structure,
Roots going deep into mud walls
Concealing the entrance.
With hacksaw and pain in equal measure,
I attack the wildness with vigour,
Thorns tearing at my flesh.
Driven by an impulse I can't ignore, success
Depends on this challenge and though blood
Drips all around,
I carry on.
I fight my way through the years of misery
And with every cut, with every root discarded,
I get nearer to the self I lost.
Then a gap, a small hole and I peer inside,
Squint to see what is there  in the dark
And carry on, renewed.
I will find my way in, the way to the present moment
And with God, find peace.