Beijing 2

Just found this poem from last year. A snapshot of our brief stay in Beijing, China. It seems like a lifetime ago. It was such a good holiday. Mum, as usual was making friends everywhere and being the life and soul ... Her only complaint ? -  too much rice. 

Beijing

After breakfast at the Hotel Continental,

The orange juice cool, pure,

We venture out, arm in arm- for safety, 

Into bustling, dusty, streets.

A tsunami of noise hits us, makes us draw back.

Traffic - six lanes- hooting horns screeching- engines revving-

Making music with constant tinkling of bells  from bikes 

As they weave through disinterested people,

Who, like squawking seagulls,

Swarm along overflowing pavements...

First impressions of Beijing...

Like debris we are swept unwillingly

In this fast flowing river.

We look up - high rise, anonymous, dirty, grey structures,

Imprison ants whose hope is a fleck of blue,

Remembered.

Beside us as we hurry by, shops 

Selling tea, fans, Chinese hats,

Beckon us,

Aromatic bouquets excite our nostrils.

Finally, in a side street, we take a rest,

In a Japanese Cafe.

They tell us:  "Don't eat the food here, It's mostly dog"

We sip a beer a

nd ponder

How we'll get back to the hotel.

Our Garden

Our Garden           26th July 2016

Here is a picture of our statue of Mary taken through the lavender that I grew from tiny shoots and brought  with me from the other house.                                 I have four healthy plants out of the many( probably more than a hundred) that I started off at the end of the summer before last. I'm extremely proud of them.                                                                                      We sit here on these warn sunny mornings and do half an hour of meditative prayer.                                                                        The bees come and work on the lavender, and sometimes some butterflies. It's a restful start to the day. A pot of tea is placed before us which we enjoy very much . 

                                                                                 

Looking in the opposite direction we have our attractive pond, in which live,  at least four fish. Well, we've only seen four . This specimen is the largest and is quite cheeky coming up to be fed when my husband walks by on his way to his studio ( or , as all the children call it, his shed). There is a water feature in the pond that has a soporific  effect on us whilst we are quietly meditating. 

We love our garden and spend a lot of time in it when we are at home and the weather allows. 

New Baby

19th July

Here he is:




Chubba

Let me kiss your puffy cheeks
And dwell a while in your new smell
Before you are too many weeks
Before we hear the clock with it's bell
Stealing the moments we want 

Let me touch your chubby arms
They hold the promise of future strengths
I'll be taken in by all your charms
Go to extreme and unusual  lengths
To be beside you always

Mother and baby .

YES!! he's here at last !!!

We have a new great grandson.

I'll write about him soon

For now just pondering

18th July 2016

Today I wait  for news of the birth of second  great grandchild. 

I came across this picture which I took when at an exhibition at the Mall Galleries in London last year.  It was my favourite piece in that particular show 

Mother and Baby

You draw me close

You invite me to hear your story

I step near for a clearer look

Your head inclined to the side

In an act of pure nurture

Arms embracing, enveloping, 

Protecting

The whole of your body 

Searching for hope in 

An unknown future 

Dressed half in earth brown

You appear safe

Your green/blue skirt

Colour of vast oceans 

You are found everywhere.

I want to touch your head

Or your shoulder

To signal my support

But it's not possible.

And after all, you are simply stone

But

I feel your caress as of my own mother

I peer into your eyes and 

See your tired face 

Carrying the weight 

Of the years ahead.

It belongs to us all.

Write on the Beach

14th July 2016

Write On The Beach

A fabulous two hours this morning at

Write On The Beach workshop,

Sitting on fold up chairs, cushions

Or, for one, an arm chair

Borrowed from a salubrious living room,

Sun warming our faces

Wind cooling our backs

Nine gathered in front of 

Beach Hut 136

A blue beacon of creativity

Nestled quietly among more 

Ordinary neighbours.

With waves rhythmically keeping time 

Mysterious - moon drift

We read poems of the beach,

Write from prompts,

Share our hastily penned words.

Pebbles, warm underfoot, listen,

Listen, to our scratchy scrawlings,

Our spoken efforts

Sometimes stolen by brazon breeze.

In just a breath, juices flowing now

Time is up.

But inspiration as plentiful as

The waters before us

Is ours to take away

Reluctantly we go our separate ways

Fresh material within us .

And some words that i played with at the workshop:

Dip Your Toe In

Dip your toe in,

Yes, that's right, it's cold, it's icy,

But, you can stand it.

Go on now, Go a bit further, try

Your foot maybe? 

Colder still? Uncomfortable - for sure,

But you'll see 

Persevere, stay with it, what do you find?

Ahh, gone numb eh? 

No feeling?

Might as well take the plunge,

Jump right in .

You know you'll be ok.

And now you scream out.

It's too much pain,

It's taking too long,

But you, you carry on,

You stay with it.

You , finally , get your reward

You, you are swimming 

Totally immersed , one with the water.

It was worth it - suffering forgotten,

Waves wash away it's echo

The sun shining on you 

The warmth of this moment precious.

The prompt for the next one is the quote: " Water: no matter how much, there is still not enough". 

At each new dawn Nadia walks with her mother,

Before the sun has time to scorch their bones

Through narrow rugged paths,

Pebbles piercing sores into dusty feet,

They carry pitchers on their heads

On their way to get water for the day ahead.

They don't speak

The task is important , urgent.

Sometimes , if they finish early enough

And the day is cool

They will go out again

Take a different road and

End up by the sea.

This time the pebbles are welcoming

They creep across them to 

Sooth their sores in the cool water.

This time the water is more than enough to

Bring a smile to their brown burnt faces.

Nadia splashes her mother and 

For a few moments they

Forget that , no matter how much there is,

There is still never enough. 

Their skin glistens a fresh beginning,

And tomorrow they will go again 

To the still, small, stream,

And the day after that 

And the day after that

But , just once in a while 

They get to smile.

250 Words

      This is an experiment that I am undertaking 

to estimate how many 

words I usually write

 in a blogpost. 

Apparently the optimum 

number of words is around 250 

and over 1000

 is way too many.

        Also the average time a visitor spends

 reading a blogpost is 

96 seconds which I 

thought was quite a long time – more than 

a minute and a half! 

So my plan is

 to see what two hundred and fifty words 

looks like on my blog

 because I 

would actually like to reach 

more people and 

to have comments from people

        that give me somewhere to go, 

you know questions for me to answer 

or maybe topics to research. 

Yes, that would be good.

So how can I get my readership 

to engage with me so that there is

 a communication between us?

     I mean, I do get a lot of comments 

but rarely are they the sort that want me to 

come back with answers or opinions, 

which is what I would like.

      Anyway, for now I am going to 

take my husband’s advice 

and post pictures and stories 

of the family and daily life.

 That seems to be the kind of writing 

that gets the most interest. 

For instance, the latest post with picture

  of my new grandson has already had 

one hundred and fifty seven views

 when normally the  first post is 

something  nearer to just fifty.

 Maybe it’s the picture of the baby.

 Well I’ll stop now as I’ve 

reached 250 words....

Number twenty two

  10th July 2016

New baby grandson born 5th July .
Each new birth is such a huge miracle -  every time.

Welcome To You

Your soft, smooth, brand new skin against my lips

Brings the future to the present and embodies the past.

Your precious, particular baby smell

Finds my nostrils remembering all the other babies 

I could drink it in all day.

Your tiny hands, although fingers long, give promise 

Of the life ahead.

And with you in my arms, cradled 

I am hypnotized by you, by your being.

Welcome to the world little man.

Brave Buddleia

4th July 2016

Time seems to be marching on at great speed and we are now in July. This last thirteen months has passed in a rather fuzzy blur. That's not to say the next thirteen will be any different . But will I have changed? Will things be the same or ...

But there is hope.

A few weeks ago I was lucky enough to acquire a buddleia plant through freecycle:

Brave Buddleia

We eventually find the house,

Hidden a little off the busy main road.

Eagerly, expectantly I walk up the path,

Through a wonderland full of colour and joy.

The door opens - here it is, she points...

My balmy balloon bursts,

Oh well, got to take it now,

Maybe the pot will make a home for a 

Better specimen, yes, that's it.

We drive home - silently.

We look at our new find,

Pot bound, dry, dreary,

Leaves brown edged.

A sorry sight.

But, let's at least give it a chance, we say.

We dig a large hole - plenty of room to grow,

If it wants.

We drench the earth.

Next I loosen the roots,

Tubers grown in on themselves,

So much pulling, pinching, prizing apart, 

Might I kill it off?

Now,  place in hollow with care. 

And water, 

And water, 

And water.

Give it a few weeks to settle 

Then look on in wonder 

Green, bright,

Even flowering,

Our brave, beautiful Buddleia.

Sometimes I feel a bit like my buddleia plant - constrained, dying for want of the right goodness.

But plant me in the best place, give me nourishment and encouragement and a lot of love and I will blossom with happiness- well, we all will...

A Year On..

21 st June 2016
I won't talk about the EU referendum - there's enough of that. Just make sure you vote, whatever your view.

A new grandchild was born this time last year and we've had two more since then . There will be two more new babies in the family during the coming weeks - another grandchild and a great-grandchild. The family is growing and I love it. But more important than the size is the fact that they all have a great love for one another. That's a great blessing and it's what brings so much happiness my way ...

So, responding to the short poem that I wrote last year when Fliss was born, I just wanted to ponder on happiness. Fliss gave us cause for concern as did her mum, but a year on is the picture of health, always smiling and bringing a great deal of love to all who meet her.

Don't Wait

Don't wait to be happy,

Till some time in the future,

For it to come and find you,

For someone else to bring it to you,

For, it will never come.

Be happy now,

Decide,

For it is your decision,

Decide,

For it is in your grasp

Now is the time,

Do not wait,

Now is the time to be ,

Happy...

Grandad's New Little Darling

So small, yet so perfect,
Head the size of
A medium orange
Fingers like tiny twigs
On thin branches
Legs as thick
As grandad's fingers.
You open your eyes
Look into his,
Smile,
No, it was a smile.
Paying attention to
His love.
You are,
His new,
"Little Darling"
And already,
Little one,
You know.
So small, yet so perfect

Dawn

10th June

OK so it's been a while since I've posted anything here on my blog. I have no excuses, except to say that I haven't felt the least bit inspired. My mind has been in a bit of a foggy place where thinking at all has been an effort that I've tried to avoid .. Just feels like hard work... Well, just to point out that I am still there , but there is also a little bit of me that can't help wanting to talk to you all. And to find out what is going on with all of my readers. By the way, thanks for all your lovely comments. They really do keep my spirits up. Knowing that someone - anyone - has enjoyed and appreciated some words of mine gives me such encouragement.

So, with it being June,  the weather being so good, the sun coming up so early, I was reminded of  a time in the past when we went out to meet the dawn.....

Dawn

Before the other campers stir,

In the anonymous womb of darkness,

The world is at rest 

Before the forest wakes 

The "almost light" of just before dawn

Says goodbye to the night.

Tent sides damp with hope of  the new day,

You breathe in the fresh promise of morning,

And slowly, anticipating, open your eyes ,

Turn -  see their little bodies- still, quiet,

Curled up in sleeping bags

Just moments before awakening.

As the birds begin their greeting,

In the half light 

You crawl around, finding

Trousers, trainers jumpers- falling 

Into one another, rubbing your eyes,

Whispering, whispering shared secrets.

The zip - noisy - breaks into 

The mystery of  dawn,

And out you step onto the dewy grass

And creep, staying close together,into the forest,

The dark being coaxed away 

By the light of the new day. 

The universe is unveiled before you

With only the sound of your breathing

All around you is coming to life

And then the little one nudges you 

Excitedly - points a little way ahead

And you all stop, thrilled.

There, grazing in the early morn

A herd of deer.

You keep as still as a mountain ,

And stare, mouths wide open,

For ages, until, spooked, they run off,

You return to the tent

For hot chocolate and toast