What's been Happening

                                                                                                           9th September 2016


It's a long time since I spent quality time posting on my blog.
I have no excuses...
However, there has been a definite lack of inspiration on my part.
And...
Life during the summer has been a wonderful series of busy days having visitors and being visitors ourselves. Living in a seaside town, you are particularly popular in the summer months, usually from the end of April till the beginning of October.
We seem to have had a holiday for the whole summer as we have joined each group of visitors on their adventures.
And...
A new grandchild and a new great grandchild born in July within days of each other add to the ever growing dynasty that is our very special family.
It's been hectic, yes, but so enjoyable too.

Then there was that day when we buried my mum and dad's ashes. I think I'll have to leave that one for a while...

And...
Of course, no time left for writing , or even contemplating writing.

But, now with things being a little more quiet, I hope to get back into the swing of things and ramble away to my hearts content.

I think I have a motivation to help me along.
The month of October is Octpowrimo and the challenge is to write a poem a day for 31 days - similar to the challenge I took last year, in April 2015. I managed it then, could I do the same again???
Well, I am certainly going to try.

So, look out on my blog for posts every day in October.
Also, let me know if there is any subject that you would like me to write about , either in a poem or other.

I'm a little bit interested in Talents:

Talent needs practice... A concert pianist might be talented but he has had to spend many hours/days/years practicing and working on his pieces.
No, I don't think we are all concert pianists underneath , but...

We all have talents...
What are your talents and how are you putting them to good use.

Frozen

Here are a few pieces I wrote when emotions were very near the surface


8th Dec 2015

Spent, used up, hundreds of hours of work well done,

But, still  more moments filled with joy and fun.

Lines on forehead giving proof that you're wise,

Observed now, noticed by much younger eyes.

Battered and bruised, near your journeys end,

Now, mercy and forgiveness, your currency to spend.

All changes, yet in the depths of you you know,

That all stays the same where you're about to go

14th Nov 2015

FROZEN

Heart - frozen, hard,

Closed 

To the gentle 

Nudging 

Of a loved one,

Heart - frozen, hard,

Indifferent

To warm tears,

Kindnesses,

Soft words.

What will melt your 

Bitterness,

Your sorrow,

What , bring a life pulse,

A love beat,

Of joy,

To you,

What ???

           

              15th Nov 2015

             END OF LIFE

Bitterness oozes from the pores of the walls,
Drips onto my peace,
Leaving holes where it bores through.
Yet here I am,
Letting the poison deform,
Letting the poison destroy.
I've kept my distance over the years,
Kept her at arms length.
Built myself up with a strong heart
And managed to...
Forgive
I thought...
Now "end of Life" time
Calls me to give
To care.
To love.
So, I try..
I try not to let
Her meanness go too deep
I try not to let
Her bring me down
Into those open,
Festering
Wounds...
No...
No, now I am her peace..
I am her carer,
I show her my love,
His Love

    16th Nov 2015

Haunted

Hidden,  buried, 

Deep --

Under days of decades

Under rubble of ritual

Under fullness of family

But now, 

Back there, 

In a moment

Cold and clammy,

A wispy shiver.

The thought of it,

Revealed , but how??

Present, but why now?

Bury it again??

No, no..
Rise up, be brave...

Destroy it, kill it, 

Be free

Go...

After School

It wasn't the day for netball,

It wasn't the day for piano

It was the day that mum worked late

Heavy clouds unburdened

In grey sky

On this dark November evening

Steps counted, too slow on walk home.

Hands damp and chilled - search

Under geranium pot - flowers dead now,

For the key.

Soggy shoes, dripping coat-

An unpealing

Hang wet bag over bannisters.

How empty,

Lonely

The house feels.

Sigh, shiver, slump,

With hot chocolate,

In front of TV and

Wait

Look at Clock

Not long...

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...