An adverb:
as in
still in this place where I live
continuing to breathe
nevertheless
alone.
A noun:
as in
the stillness of this French maison
where quietness returns
where there is lack of much movement, activity, persons, tasks
where 'tis not noiseless,
for Freezer boils from time to time so that Clock can be heard ticking its song.
NOR
as in
stillness of air, water, weather
though 'undisturbed'
I am trying to be.
NOR
as in
still as a frame in a movie
though stop is what
I am trying to do.
NOR
as in
an apparatus to distill alcohol
still even a strong gin and tonic or a snifter of Armagnac would be a slippery slope!
An adjective:
as in
still lemonade - a non fizzy drink
OR
as in
it is not yet possible to be still
OR
as in
not moving or making a sound of being motionless in the DEAD stillness of a life form deceased.
I don't for one moment wish that!
I am trying to stay STILL.
Keep my WILL of not scattering.
Nevertheless,
I have no will to post, update a blog
but perhaps after a while
after time has healed the moments of the past,
and there is a stillness between memories of joy, sorrow, regret, gratitude
there will come a time when I can backdate and appreciate.
I came to say the last
BUT Creativity came to mind
whilst being still, focused on words, not emotions.
Being still,
letting my mind be me,
it wrote a poem!
Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Saturday 6 August 2016
Monday 28 March 2016
Songster without song
I have not had even ONE Easter egg!!!!!
Must be the first time ever in my life!
First time this year at nine ish in the morning I celebrate MY first hearing of THE CUCKOO!!!
POEM: Songster calling
Copyright by SweetpeainFrance
28 March 2016
Stand at the edge of an ancient woodland,
where on higher land the wild wind blows
straight from south west Atlantic ocean,
where Katie and her storm force troops blew her gales
as if to push winter northwards where she hails.
Perhaps this songster blew in with the wind,
one only ambition
to forge new generation
but hardly to sing!
In the early hours of morning I entered, ventured to the yard
whilst warm gusty, blustery winds were yelling at my side
as I closed French folding shutters blowing freely in the wind,
eased to fix the wooden gates creaking, moaning as they moved
checked the garden to the rear, make sure nought was unkind,
put on the kettle, made a cup of tea,
went back to sleep like a baby peacefully,
slept deep and soundly 'til shoulders aching waked me,
walked to breathe oxygen, stretch legs, arms aerobically.
Hark, what do I hear?
that welcome sound as the first in the year -
that refreshing call of spring time -
that sound so known for its songster calling -
that tune so known for its major third -
when a cruel and wicked mother bird
ousts eggs which have a right to their nest
laying her own for another mother to do its best
feeding insects to the cuckoo, a brood parasite
as the new born throws out others with its spite
an unsuspecting mother bird uses energy in flight
to feed the growing imposter all day and night!
A refreshing call just after the Spring Equinox!
Bringing HOPE for summer
Better than any chocolate box!
SO Sorry for UK and terrible experiences.
I have not ventured out of my gate in several days...other than this short walk
today.
I am ready for what I HOPE to be the final ( fifth ) IKEA visit to order the kitchen..
All is measured more than once; solutions to problems have been found with one other person to help add a voice and opinion, motivation, realise the difficulties and the frustration, realise that it wasn't all me that I became disillusioned and more!
So despite the accusatory tone from several people that I have not been doing my best.. if one saw the paperwork plans then one would realise the differences between a room which needed another 5cm linear length to comfortably fit ... but now it works in the room and on the paper and hopefully on the ickilogiciel....
Flooring is purchased and will be laid in two weeks time.
There is a choice of three electrician and plumbing companies... I am waiting for estimates to be updated.. and waiting an email response before the final decision!
Must be the first time ever in my life!
First time this year at nine ish in the morning I celebrate MY first hearing of THE CUCKOO!!!
POEM: Songster calling
Copyright by SweetpeainFrance
28 March 2016
Stand at the edge of an ancient woodland,
where on higher land the wild wind blows
straight from south west Atlantic ocean,
where Katie and her storm force troops blew her gales
as if to push winter northwards where she hails.
Perhaps this songster blew in with the wind,
one only ambition
to forge new generation
but hardly to sing!
In the early hours of morning I entered, ventured to the yard
whilst warm gusty, blustery winds were yelling at my side
as I closed French folding shutters blowing freely in the wind,
eased to fix the wooden gates creaking, moaning as they moved
checked the garden to the rear, make sure nought was unkind,
put on the kettle, made a cup of tea,
went back to sleep like a baby peacefully,
slept deep and soundly 'til shoulders aching waked me,
walked to breathe oxygen, stretch legs, arms aerobically.
Hark, what do I hear?
that welcome sound as the first in the year -
that refreshing call of spring time -
that sound so known for its songster calling -
that tune so known for its major third -
when a cruel and wicked mother bird
ousts eggs which have a right to their nest
laying her own for another mother to do its best
feeding insects to the cuckoo, a brood parasite
as the new born throws out others with its spite
an unsuspecting mother bird uses energy in flight
to feed the growing imposter all day and night!
A refreshing call just after the Spring Equinox!
Bringing HOPE for summer
Better than any chocolate box!
SO Sorry for UK and terrible experiences.
I have not ventured out of my gate in several days...other than this short walk
today.
I am ready for what I HOPE to be the final ( fifth ) IKEA visit to order the kitchen..
All is measured more than once; solutions to problems have been found with one other person to help add a voice and opinion, motivation, realise the difficulties and the frustration, realise that it wasn't all me that I became disillusioned and more!
So despite the accusatory tone from several people that I have not been doing my best.. if one saw the paperwork plans then one would realise the differences between a room which needed another 5cm linear length to comfortably fit ... but now it works in the room and on the paper and hopefully on the ickilogiciel....
Flooring is purchased and will be laid in two weeks time.
There is a choice of three electrician and plumbing companies... I am waiting for estimates to be updated.. and waiting an email response before the final decision!
Tuesday 22 March 2016
Swallow in the sky
Into official Spring time ...
there above, in a blue sky,
flies a lone swallow,
flies a lone swallow,
so exciting to witness,
so hopeful a promise
of happiness and hope.
so hopeful a promise
of happiness and hope.
Wednesday 10 February 2016
Wtfiiaa?
This particular blog started as a way of recording the renovation of a property... much as many others have used a blog format as a journal.
However, it also became unintentionally, a vehicle for an emotional journey, after the break-up of what I thought was a relationship made-in-heaven. No such thing exists, I have discerned. My vulnerable dream was shattered by my own negative energies and those of another. My dream of having a relationship that incorporated all that I dreamt of in terms of 'happy family' sharing when my parents never did, came to fruition fleetingly and then was quickly dissolved by irritability. scorn, criticism and blame and maybe other stuff. Let's not go down that road for now!
This blog has seen a few up and down episodes of my personal life since 2010 or whenever I started to blog, in retrospect to that time that I bought my property. This blog has also commented on places and events. It has witnessed my observations of, and in, my village and surroundings. I try to avoid personal and family pics. I try to be cautious with global internet exposure but sometimes fail!
On occasions I tried the challenge of blogging every day of a month by writing articles ahead of time when the facility to do that became a possibility, or I discovered it! It takes time to get photos prepped and an article written. I have posted deliberately and unconsciously as a form of creativity, as well as avoidance of doing other tasks - let's call that procrastination!
Sometimes I write ahead, then edit and re-edit before publishing. Most often I write and publish. To the discerning few who bother to read this ego-centred self-published material, they may have identified that sometimes I edit after publishing. Sometimes I feel I've been too public with the emotional outpouring. Or a poem needs to be improved or altered to make it, in my mind, better! Or my form of dyslexia has come to be too garbled in its word-salad, so I have to rewrite the nonsense sentences into ones that can be understood and not misinterpreted!
Sometimes there have been major gaps between postings, where I've become silent, unmotivated, dispirited, when words or creativity are blocked. The gaps might signify I have been occupied or that I have nothing worthy of publication. The gaps may signify that I have been in a dark hole of depression or contemplation of the thought: "W--- t-- f--- i- i- a-- a----?"
This posting is in itself an admission of that. Excuse me for any sensitivities of the use of an expletive. Isn't it amazing how few letters are required for one to be able to read a sentence? My children at school loved that they could read, if I covered the ascenders or descenders of letters!
It is also an admission that I do NOT produce this for others... I produce it for me. Very ego-centred! I am aware and what is wrong with that form of artistry? I do not seek compliments but if you wish to make them then I feel honoured. If you feel you want to refute me or disagree then you can do that too! My blog is a kind of diary. I am proud of it. I am proud of the progress I have made in writing skills when at the end of my career I was writing absolute goobledy-gook for important documents: no one told me!!! - no one even understood - least of all did I realise that dyslexia manifests itself under stress. I feel it is remarkable what I have achieved given that at the age of 17 I had not much idea about literacy! From an early age I read the dictionary at bedtime to learn vocabulary and spelling because I'd read the main reading material - the family print company's selection of Charles Dickens novels.
I have made progress coping with and in the particular challenges I've experienced of living in France. All the downs and all the ups. It is called LIFE and possibly would not be any different wherever I lived. I am who I am! However, I think the very fact that one lives in a different culture where the primary language is my secondary language, does make an enormous difference to sanity, as also does the fact that the country is huge. To go to a supermarket or anywhere to experience culture is a often a long journey necessitating the ownership of a vehicle!
My former blog tried very hard to gloss over the hidden REALITY that was not exposed to others in the lifestyle that my former partner and I were living, although there were some who knew and who were helpless to help, because as for all of us, there is only one who can make a difference, and that person inside us needs a certain amount of knowledge, skills and talents that perhaps doesn't quite exist when it is required. Some friends and members of my family said they would not read either of my blogs because the first was not REAL! It was my real! It was often the better parts of life as it stood then in a chocolate box cottage surrounded by sheep and a pony where I learned to write poetry. We had some wonderful positive experiences and I really should find the time and expertise to transform these blogs into book format. For me. for my grand child. For posterity or they can burn it at a later date!
People make things. I have done so. I made music. I fed children's curiosity. I have in the past sewn, crocheted, knitted etc. I like to write. My poetry is quite substantial now and this too I would like to get published alongside my photography such as it is!
Meanwhile the spectre of a kitchen room haunts me...
It seems so obscene, the price it will cost to have the kitchen room electrics rewired for first and second fix! The flooring seems reasonable but I am undecided on wood or ceramic that looks like wood but I think real wood will win the day! Then the furniture and appliance costs seem so obscene. Yet what I love is expensive. I have expensive tastes as a pauper! My mother aged 89, said to my daughter when giving her a Christmas gift and not one for me, that I have everything I need!!!!!!! Maybe she is correct. I have relatively exceptional health for someone my age and I am stil young even if old but I hold no bars to my daughter...who gasps at some things I say... and yet it is tame, very tame, compared to some tigers! All my life my mother has always said that I have ideas above my station! And indeed I have... and wtfiiaa in this isolated west facing property on the outskirts of a beautiful ( so they say) village!!!! They don't live here! Let's not go down that road.
However, it also became unintentionally, a vehicle for an emotional journey, after the break-up of what I thought was a relationship made-in-heaven. No such thing exists, I have discerned. My vulnerable dream was shattered by my own negative energies and those of another. My dream of having a relationship that incorporated all that I dreamt of in terms of 'happy family' sharing when my parents never did, came to fruition fleetingly and then was quickly dissolved by irritability. scorn, criticism and blame and maybe other stuff. Let's not go down that road for now!
This blog has seen a few up and down episodes of my personal life since 2010 or whenever I started to blog, in retrospect to that time that I bought my property. This blog has also commented on places and events. It has witnessed my observations of, and in, my village and surroundings. I try to avoid personal and family pics. I try to be cautious with global internet exposure but sometimes fail!
On occasions I tried the challenge of blogging every day of a month by writing articles ahead of time when the facility to do that became a possibility, or I discovered it! It takes time to get photos prepped and an article written. I have posted deliberately and unconsciously as a form of creativity, as well as avoidance of doing other tasks - let's call that procrastination!
Sometimes I write ahead, then edit and re-edit before publishing. Most often I write and publish. To the discerning few who bother to read this ego-centred self-published material, they may have identified that sometimes I edit after publishing. Sometimes I feel I've been too public with the emotional outpouring. Or a poem needs to be improved or altered to make it, in my mind, better! Or my form of dyslexia has come to be too garbled in its word-salad, so I have to rewrite the nonsense sentences into ones that can be understood and not misinterpreted!
Sometimes there have been major gaps between postings, where I've become silent, unmotivated, dispirited, when words or creativity are blocked. The gaps might signify I have been occupied or that I have nothing worthy of publication. The gaps may signify that I have been in a dark hole of depression or contemplation of the thought: "W--- t-- f--- i- i- a-- a----?"
This posting is in itself an admission of that. Excuse me for any sensitivities of the use of an expletive. Isn't it amazing how few letters are required for one to be able to read a sentence? My children at school loved that they could read, if I covered the ascenders or descenders of letters!
It is also an admission that I do NOT produce this for others... I produce it for me. Very ego-centred! I am aware and what is wrong with that form of artistry? I do not seek compliments but if you wish to make them then I feel honoured. If you feel you want to refute me or disagree then you can do that too! My blog is a kind of diary. I am proud of it. I am proud of the progress I have made in writing skills when at the end of my career I was writing absolute goobledy-gook for important documents: no one told me!!! - no one even understood - least of all did I realise that dyslexia manifests itself under stress. I feel it is remarkable what I have achieved given that at the age of 17 I had not much idea about literacy! From an early age I read the dictionary at bedtime to learn vocabulary and spelling because I'd read the main reading material - the family print company's selection of Charles Dickens novels.
I have made progress coping with and in the particular challenges I've experienced of living in France. All the downs and all the ups. It is called LIFE and possibly would not be any different wherever I lived. I am who I am! However, I think the very fact that one lives in a different culture where the primary language is my secondary language, does make an enormous difference to sanity, as also does the fact that the country is huge. To go to a supermarket or anywhere to experience culture is a often a long journey necessitating the ownership of a vehicle!
My former blog tried very hard to gloss over the hidden REALITY that was not exposed to others in the lifestyle that my former partner and I were living, although there were some who knew and who were helpless to help, because as for all of us, there is only one who can make a difference, and that person inside us needs a certain amount of knowledge, skills and talents that perhaps doesn't quite exist when it is required. Some friends and members of my family said they would not read either of my blogs because the first was not REAL! It was my real! It was often the better parts of life as it stood then in a chocolate box cottage surrounded by sheep and a pony where I learned to write poetry. We had some wonderful positive experiences and I really should find the time and expertise to transform these blogs into book format. For me. for my grand child. For posterity or they can burn it at a later date!
People make things. I have done so. I made music. I fed children's curiosity. I have in the past sewn, crocheted, knitted etc. I like to write. My poetry is quite substantial now and this too I would like to get published alongside my photography such as it is!
Meanwhile the spectre of a kitchen room haunts me...
It seems so obscene, the price it will cost to have the kitchen room electrics rewired for first and second fix! The flooring seems reasonable but I am undecided on wood or ceramic that looks like wood but I think real wood will win the day! Then the furniture and appliance costs seem so obscene. Yet what I love is expensive. I have expensive tastes as a pauper! My mother aged 89, said to my daughter when giving her a Christmas gift and not one for me, that I have everything I need!!!!!!! Maybe she is correct. I have relatively exceptional health for someone my age and I am stil young even if old but I hold no bars to my daughter...who gasps at some things I say... and yet it is tame, very tame, compared to some tigers! All my life my mother has always said that I have ideas above my station! And indeed I have... and wtfiiaa in this isolated west facing property on the outskirts of a beautiful ( so they say) village!!!! They don't live here! Let's not go down that road.
Friday 25 December 2015
Christmas 2015: Angles sur L’Anglin
Les Petits Oiseaux: SweetpeainFrance
copyright December 2015
I had no camera.
Today I was singing and dancing
along the snow-packed lane feeling the joy of living
to witness such regal majesty
Today I was singing and dancing
to let the bright light into my eyes and heart
and let it make me tired and content.
MERRY CHRISTMAS 2015 as I've sent no cards or
gifts this year.
But I DO send a gift of LOVE, CARE, HOPE for better times!
HOPE that Family and Friends relate kindly!
HOPE that displaced people find safety, warmth, shelter, food, purpose, income and an expression of their own talents, skills and intelligence.
Two
Poems: Two birds: Five Photos: Two February months of a French Wintry World
I have no photo of a blackbird, no poem of robin.
Yet on
my roofs 'des petits oiseaux' stand and sing:
“Bon
Noël”- we bring for you “une année heureuse,”
whilst Sweetpea sings Peace for Earth, Sky, Universe
Jewels
for a Blackbird, returning summer and spring,
here
is my poem to ring ding a ling.
Hope,
Health, Happiness – All is Everything.
Robin February 2015 copyright
Jewels for a Blackbird: SweetpeainFrance copyright February 2012
Today I was singing
and dancing
as I stepped through the snowy hedged woodland
where the angled branches of the trees criss-crossed each other
as the patterns highlighted by white snow
as I stepped through the snowy hedged woodland
where the angled branches of the trees criss-crossed each other
as the patterns highlighted by white snow
rested on the tops
of the lines of the branches.
I had no camera.
Today I was singing and dancing
along the snow-packed lane feeling the joy of living
to witness such regal majesty
of the wintry
phenomena of frozen water
and the prints imprinted of animals, humans, wheeled vehicles,
and the prints imprinted of animals, humans, wheeled vehicles,
skis and
toboggans;
all had been there before me with tracks to places known and unknown.
all had been there before me with tracks to places known and unknown.
Today I was singing and dancing
to let the bright light into my eyes and heart
and let it make me tired and content.
Today I was singing
and dancing
as blackbird
hungrily ate the beautiful red jewelled pendants
hanging in a garden
not far from the river.
Jewels for a
blackbird. Will he sing and
dance for me?
The Chateau Angles sur L'Anglin: February 2015
The End of the End of Year Message!
Best wishes for 2016
 |
| Roof 1 Oiseau 1 |
 |
| Roof 2 Oiseau 2 |
Friday 29 May 2015
Sky
out on the bicycle, stop to eat a pear,
lie down upon the ground, stare into the air,
empty the mind of things that really do not matter,
stop words and nuisance thoughts that make a mindless chatter,
conversation flutters like a brimstone butterfly,
dizzy day dreams disappear, Life could simplify,
brilliant cobalt blue above, clouds scud slowly by,
forming changing vapours, castles reaching high,
not a soul around her, 'cept fields and clouds and sky.
LOVE
lie down upon the ground, stare into the air,
empty the mind of things that really do not matter,
stop words and nuisance thoughts that make a mindless chatter,
conversation flutters like a brimstone butterfly,
dizzy day dreams disappear, Life could simplify,
brilliant cobalt blue above, clouds scud slowly by,
forming changing vapours, castles reaching high,
not a soul around her, 'cept fields and clouds and sky.
LOVE
Thursday 12 March 2015
Broken willow tree
Evening spring warmth and light
brings me to the risen river
swollen with clear rushing water.
Purple violets here and there
raise their heads to feel the air
church tower ding dongs the hour.
Here I sit near broken willow
stood majestically tall six long winters ago
where I sat with a Lover for a Christmas dinner in snow.
Our barbecue winter four course meals, whatever the weather
unfashionable, until others as mad as us, announced it 'de rigeur.'
Then it was, that willowy tendril garlands decorated our day to tumble on us there.
Willowy strands reminded us, kept us in touch
with the geographical history of man
but Nature does not stay;
willowy tendrils like love can be broken
as all things pass,
whilst the River and Water of Life flows on and on
carrying flotsam and jetsam.
Walking on
found jazz on a 2cv.
A party.
A glass of white wine and company.
Society.
I am alive.
Like willow I can regrow.
Thank you willow tree.
brings me to the risen river
swollen with clear rushing water.
Purple violets here and there
raise their heads to feel the air
church tower ding dongs the hour.
Here I sit near broken willow
stood majestically tall six long winters ago
where I sat with a Lover for a Christmas dinner in snow.
Our barbecue winter four course meals, whatever the weather
unfashionable, until others as mad as us, announced it 'de rigeur.'
Then it was, that willowy tendril garlands decorated our day to tumble on us there.
Willowy strands reminded us, kept us in touch
with the geographical history of man
but Nature does not stay;
willowy tendrils like love can be broken
as all things pass,
whilst the River and Water of Life flows on and on
carrying flotsam and jetsam.
Walking on
found jazz on a 2cv.
A party.
A glass of white wine and company.
Society.
I am alive.
Like willow I can regrow.
 | |
| This winter broken |
 |
| with still an eye to view |
 |
| the barque |
 |
| the chateau |
 |
| the church |
Friday 6 March 2015
A Poem: I am a Mummy Octopus
Happy 7th Birthday, 6th March to special Francesca!
Happy Felicity Feast day 7th March with babe in arms!
Happy Birthday Party 8th March
Happy Francesca Feast Day 9th March
Happy Birthday Party 8th March
Happy Francesca Feast Day 9th March
This Poem which is absolutely copyright is a tribute to my grand daughter who has a busy mummy making her seventh birthday weekend a memorable happy event.
The Poem was started in 2013 from a song idea from my daughter to her daughter but she couldn't sing enough ideas about what an octopus could do.
She asked Grandmama in France to oblige. She has never had sufficient inspiration or imagination to make it into a children's rhyme or song but now supposes the octopus could find treasures in the sea. A pictorial artist is needed to help develop a story!
A
Poem: A Mummy Octopus sings to Baby Octopus
I am a mummy octopus with many arms to hold
you safe with all my heart until the days grow old.I am a mummy octopus with eight long tentacles
to keep me busy all the time to clear all obstacles.
I am a mummy octopus working hard for family,
I try to give my very best for health and harmony.
I am a mummy octopus, I wrap the world together,
Open - close, hug you tight, embrace shared love forever.
We spread ourselves around the world to reach out arms unfurled,
wide and far, wrap loved ones near, tentacles are curled.
We squish and squirm in Waters of Life, build friendship out of trust,
destroy unwanted nuisances, convert to angel dust.
On your seventh birthday, Mother and Daughter, we
keep our tentacles busy baking cakes for your party.
I hope that when you grow up more
your octopus daughter’s arms stretch to adore
the beautiful world of hope - a kaleidoscope.
One day my daughter you might be
a mummy octopus just like me
with arms to hold ME safe
with all your heart
until my days grow old and cold.
Thank you for letting me be a mummy octopus!
Thursday 22 January 2015
Poetry: The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost
'I love driving in open country... was making my way back onto the route from which I had accidentally deviated...which reminds me of the story of my life!'... and THAT deviation reminds me of a favourite poem:
The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Ah, I sigh...wondering at my age, about roads that I chose not, for reasons I know not, or, because I didn't know they were camouflaged under brambles! I often took the easier route, yet have thought: "Why does life have to be so complicated?"
Ah, I sigh...wondering at my age, about roads that I chose not, for reasons I know not, or, because I didn't know they were camouflaged under brambles! I often took the easier route, yet have thought: "Why does life have to be so complicated?"
The Road Taken: At times, remorse. At times, joy. I have arrived at this place in my life, in my time, and have much to be grateful for. I am thankful to so many others who have influenced my arrival, even when I thought I had experienced poor choices and interludes. Occasionally, it is true, I have unwittingly waved the "woe is me" flag for attention, knowing it was wrong to blame or criticise anyone for bringing me to this point. Indeed, I praise them. I had to learn to take responsibility. Oh the path is winding!
The poet doesn't necessarily say that the choice of path one takes in LIFE is more full, or less full, of crises, decisions, choices, chance... it's just that, we do not know before we make the choice that eventually we might look back at our lives to think differently, or at the very least, wonder what would have happened if x or y or z. The poet predicts that in the future we might re-arrange the story of our lives to suit our purpose but, in truth, cannot get away onto any other path, for honesty must prevail!
I remember a friend telling me, when I was dithering about whether to buy a property or not and where..., "it doesn't matter what the choice/decision is, it matters that you DO make a choice/decision and after that, if you think it was wrong, you can change it, you can make another choice of decision!" Wise words indeed! Who wants to be lost in the woods all day, like Little Red Riding Hood? There are so many different paths in the yellow woods! The poet is telling us that there is no right path and that it is wasteful of precious life-time making a decision... Hey, I am just appreciating this viewpoint. I wonder if the poet ever had a kitchen conundrum to solve!?
I remember a friend telling me, when I was dithering about whether to buy a property or not and where..., "it doesn't matter what the choice/decision is, it matters that you DO make a choice/decision and after that, if you think it was wrong, you can change it, you can make another choice of decision!" Wise words indeed! Who wants to be lost in the woods all day, like Little Red Riding Hood? There are so many different paths in the yellow woods! The poet is telling us that there is no right path and that it is wasteful of precious life-time making a decision... Hey, I am just appreciating this viewpoint. I wonder if the poet ever had a kitchen conundrum to solve!?
Saturday 17 January 2015
Hope
as they raise their heads in January
blooming amidst ground ivy
glistening gems of purity.
Sheltered in the grassy glade
pointing leafy sword-like blades
treasures on a dry stone wall
full of Heavenly Hope.
Snow has not yet fallen
when flowery drops appear
promising nature's glory
for the coming future year.
Sunday 30 November 2014
Poem: Threads
silver spidery threads
Spiders know how to catch God's glory.
November 2014
At the first funeral I stood and sat on the left of the aisle, up against the cold stone wall. As I contemplated many things, I noticed a mass of fine webs at hand level, that linked those stones with a chair which did not move because it was attached to the row of chairs it was part of. I did not know him. He did not know me. But I had seen him on his land and I know people who knew him. A Tragic End. Respect.
At the second funeral, the following day, I sat and stood on the right of the aisle to see the coffin and altar. Here as I sat having paid my blessings, in front of me at foot level were more of the same fine threads, fine in visibility. fine in texture. At a particular poignant moment, sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows and the web glistened with bright colour on its silk. I smiled. Life lives.
She and I had not met but in a Summer I might have waved if she had her window open... she was housebound for over five years. I have a regret to my shame. Each time I planned to visit, some thing delayed the event. She and her daughter, who is also a neighbour, lived 'en famille' in my house. Respect.
When I wrote this I had no idea that I would post it on Advent Day One. I light a candle.
lit by golden sunshine
connect an inner
church wall to chairs
which have not moved,
which have not moved,
where people sit,
where people stand,
but do not kneel.
spidery webs,
but do not kneel.
spidery webs,
silverised,
gilded,
in a French religious ceremony.
God’s light rebounds,
when rainbow patches form,
from filtered light through windows,
when rainbow patches form,
from filtered light through windows,
to bounce from saint to
silk and stone,
to radiate a living smile
in praise of life.
Spiders know how to catch God's glory.
a funeral,
a living end,
makes us sombre,
reminds us,
dust to dust.
dust to dust.
Dignity
in death,
Lost
in death,
Lost
is a Must.
I stand straight and tall near that cold
stone wall,
to give respect to a
human life I did not know,
watch,
to contemplate death,
recall,
to contemplate death,
recall,
life amidst people
standing now,
who await a turn ahead,
who are invited to
bless the dead,
they do...
they do...
knowing it could be
you.
silvery threads spun,
were not disturbed for
quite a while.
like us,
not disturbed for also quite a while,
but threads and webs of life remain,
alone.
not disturbed for also quite a while,
but threads and webs of life remain,
alone.
Then.
When we least suspect it,
Life is done,
When we least suspect it,
Life is done,
GONE.
The content of this posting MUST not be reproduced without written permission. :)November 2014
At the first funeral I stood and sat on the left of the aisle, up against the cold stone wall. As I contemplated many things, I noticed a mass of fine webs at hand level, that linked those stones with a chair which did not move because it was attached to the row of chairs it was part of. I did not know him. He did not know me. But I had seen him on his land and I know people who knew him. A Tragic End. Respect.
At the second funeral, the following day, I sat and stood on the right of the aisle to see the coffin and altar. Here as I sat having paid my blessings, in front of me at foot level were more of the same fine threads, fine in visibility. fine in texture. At a particular poignant moment, sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows and the web glistened with bright colour on its silk. I smiled. Life lives.
She and I had not met but in a Summer I might have waved if she had her window open... she was housebound for over five years. I have a regret to my shame. Each time I planned to visit, some thing delayed the event. She and her daughter, who is also a neighbour, lived 'en famille' in my house. Respect.
When I wrote this I had no idea that I would post it on Advent Day One. I light a candle.
Saturday 29 November 2014
Saturday Things I Love: Shutters
Shades with hues of light, an ambient climate.
A favourite island, nay, an Île,
a sea of brilliant blues sous un ciel.
Give her heart 'a ray' of sunshine.
Give her bliss as she stands to stare,
or cycles in her saddle with wind in her hair.
Ride the flat landscape, smell the sweet air,
Walk along beaches, eat ice cream there,
Hear her fun laughter, with never a care!
Where was she on Saturday, a week ago?
Friday 26 September 2014
More than Wonderful days
Out of an abyss of darkness, comes light.
It is an expression for how the MIND gets it wrong...
for how negative thoughts, self-talk are not necessarily the truth, and how they work against positive thinking and create depression, resentment, anger even.
Chattering of the mind can be destructive to positive interaction.
"Think happy thoughts" is another expression.
I believe it is true that we are what we think and I know how negative thinking can take an enormous grip on the mind and affect behaviour.
I believe THE CURE is to be with others: it is essential to mental well-being. Also to have interests that absorb the mind, few problems to resolve, and a degree of purpose as well as creativity.
I am very lucky.
I MUST hold onto that notion for when self doubt takes hold.
No more outpourings MUST be my target.
To be mindful of moving a 'now' to 'a future', however challenging that may be on a daily basis, means to dwell not in a past of 'yesterdays', unless it's to remember the GOOD TIMES. Not to wallow but to cherish. I don't know how to do it!
BUT THE GOOD NEWS is that:
there have been many more than wonderful moments, experiences, gifts of the soul received and given, and days, days, days when the man in the white coat is not needed. ***
I MUST 'turn around' with a little help from my friends.
THANK YOU to each and every friend who has suffered my darkness and yet who has realised my goodness enough to wish to be with me. THANK YOU!
I feel a turnaround. Darkness is just a few steps mis-trodden; a few steps back.
So I need to step forward again and "Think happy thoughts".
I love being happy! Stay, happiness stay!
Days by Philip Larkin ***
They come, they wake us
Time and time over.
They are to be happy in:
Where can we live but days?
Ah, solving that question
Brings the priest and the doctor
In their long coats
Running over the fields.
It is true.
It is an expression for how the MIND gets it wrong...
for how negative thoughts, self-talk are not necessarily the truth, and how they work against positive thinking and create depression, resentment, anger even.
Chattering of the mind can be destructive to positive interaction.
"Think happy thoughts" is another expression.
I believe it is true that we are what we think and I know how negative thinking can take an enormous grip on the mind and affect behaviour.
I believe THE CURE is to be with others: it is essential to mental well-being. Also to have interests that absorb the mind, few problems to resolve, and a degree of purpose as well as creativity.
I am very lucky.
I MUST hold onto that notion for when self doubt takes hold.
No more outpourings MUST be my target.
To be mindful of moving a 'now' to 'a future', however challenging that may be on a daily basis, means to dwell not in a past of 'yesterdays', unless it's to remember the GOOD TIMES. Not to wallow but to cherish. I don't know how to do it!
BUT THE GOOD NEWS is that:
there have been many more than wonderful moments, experiences, gifts of the soul received and given, and days, days, days when the man in the white coat is not needed. ***
I MUST 'turn around' with a little help from my friends.
THANK YOU to each and every friend who has suffered my darkness and yet who has realised my goodness enough to wish to be with me. THANK YOU!
I feel a turnaround. Darkness is just a few steps mis-trodden; a few steps back.
So I need to step forward again and "Think happy thoughts".
I love being happy! Stay, happiness stay!
Days by Philip Larkin ***
What are days for?
Days are where we live. They come, they wake us
Time and time over.
They are to be happy in:
Where can we live but days?
Ah, solving that question
Brings the priest and the doctor
In their long coats
Running over the fields.
It is true.
Friday 19 September 2014
Sea changes
Full fathom five, thy father lies, Of his bones are coral made,
Those are pearls that were his eyes, Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change, into something rich and strange,
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell, Ding-dong.
Hark! now I hear them, ding-dong, bell.
William Shakespeare: The Tempest
I hadn't heard this expression for many a year. Then three times within the last week it occurred.
Odd, because I have recently started a E. J. Howard novel "The Sea Change".
Those are pearls that were his eyes, Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change, into something rich and strange,
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell, Ding-dong.
Hark! now I hear them, ding-dong, bell.
William Shakespeare: The Tempest
I hadn't heard this expression for many a year. Then three times within the last week it occurred.
Odd, because I have recently started a E. J. Howard novel "The Sea Change".
Sunday 7 September 2014
The Swing - A poem
How do you
like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!
Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see so wide,
River and trees and cattle and all
Over the countryside--
Till I look down on the garden green,
Down on the roof so brown--
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down!
By Robert Louis Stevenson
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!
Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see so wide,
River and trees and cattle and all
Over the countryside--
Till I look down on the garden green,
Down on the roof so brown--
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down!
By Robert Louis Stevenson
Thursday 29 May 2014
Beginnings, Middles, and Ends
I quote from Gilda Radner who died of Ovarian Cancer.
I quote from Robert Frost from 'In the home stretch' who died as a result of prostate surgery.
Chinese philosophy foretells that when we close an opportunity, we open another... just like opening and closing doors and windows. THUS THERE IS the heading of my blog created three years ago, whilst grappling with trauma I felt was sprinkled upon me!
“I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity.”and
I quote from Robert Frost from 'In the home stretch' who died as a result of prostate surgery.
“I don’t want to find out what can’t be known. But who first said the word to come?”Restless in France is sure she doesn't like endings, nor does she like ONLY beginnings. Middles are vitally important!
“My dear, It’s who first thought the thought. You’re searching, Joe, For things that don’t exist; I mean beginnings. Ends and beginnings––there are no such things. There are only middles.
"What is this?" “This life? Our sitting here by lantern-light together Amid the wreckage of a former home? You won’t deny the lantern isn’t new. The stove is not, and you are not to me, Nor I to you.”
“Perhaps you never were?” “It would take me forever to recite All that’s not new in where we find ourselves.
New is a word for fools in towns who think
Style upon style in dress and thought at last
Must get somewhere. I’ve heard you say as much.
No, this is no beginning.”
“Then an end?”
“End is a gloomy word.”
Chinese philosophy foretells that when we close an opportunity, we open another... just like opening and closing doors and windows. THUS THERE IS the heading of my blog created three years ago, whilst grappling with trauma I felt was sprinkled upon me!
Monday 26 May 2014
In the middle of the night - a poem!
I think
that living a life alone
makes the chattering mind think too much and groan.
I think
that after one walks and works all day
another day is done. Gone. And muscles moan.
Deep sleep is welcomed, but it feels such a waste
of the precious jewel of time; then haste
to fill all non-sleepy-time moments
that are part of living life
for all that one really wants, is to never have strife
'tween friends,
especially those who one thought one knew...
Hearts and minds have folly too!
Everyone needs to be touched or hugged,
love is a gift and a gift is loved.
Blissfulness from a power above
in the guise of carnal or spiritual love.
Hugs are lifestyle gifts divine.
But it doesn't mean to say they can be his or mine!
Hoping good health keep us on the treadmill
of moving,
of ageing,
of completing
days,
until they are no longer.
PLEASE don't let my mind and muscles moan and groan!
that living a life alone
makes the chattering mind think too much and groan.
I think
that after one walks and works all day
another day is done. Gone. And muscles moan.
Deep sleep is welcomed, but it feels such a waste
of the precious jewel of time; then haste
to fill all non-sleepy-time moments
that are part of living life
for all that one really wants, is to never have strife
'tween friends,
especially those who one thought one knew...
Hearts and minds have folly too!
Everyone needs to be touched or hugged,
love is a gift and a gift is loved.
Blissfulness from a power above
in the guise of carnal or spiritual love.
Hugs are lifestyle gifts divine.
But it doesn't mean to say they can be his or mine!
Hoping good health keep us on the treadmill
of moving,
of ageing,
of completing
days,
until they are no longer.
PLEASE don't let my mind and muscles moan and groan!
Monday 17 February 2014
Poetic thinking about absent adult children in Spring
Sunday morning sun is shining glistening dew on grass.
Crisp it feels, but not too cold under the blue-bright clear sky.
Wearing a coat I sit... on a fuschia pink chair... drinking tea... eating toast with marmalade.
Wearing a coat I sit... on a fuschia pink chair... drinking tea... eating toast with marmalade.
I watch a mostly black bumble bee arrive on the stone wall to sun himself.
I feel the need to sun myself.
to titivate the garden... to walk... to cycle... but inside there are chores.
There is a yearning to share Time...
as it passes in the thoughts of a garden where Life shortens day by day.
are swept warmly away from my face with laughter
as bright sunlight spears my eyes and dries the joyful tears
We grow like daffodils pushing through verdant grass to raise their sunny lemon heads.
children, family, friends.
Yet here in my garden in France, and in my garden of love,
absent like the daffodils in their beds
they are waiting to show up!
I am waiting for the next step.
Shake up. Shape up.
Be like the busy black bumble bee.
Look for the warmth before we rust away.
It's SPRING!
Monday update:
Another very warm day... that did not turn cold until 17h. The sky stayed clear all day with WARM sunshine whereas yesterday there were afternoon showers. There is a brilliant setting sun. I see red streaks in the sky at 18h.
On Sunday morning I was so overjoyed with the signs of Spring that I started to think that France on a glorious warm February morning is such a golden treasure.
Yesterday, I was thinking about my grown up children and thinking that because of the choices I made about life they cannot be here to enjoy what I enjoy! Neither can I be with them to enjoy what they enjoy!!!! I keep tweaking the words... a wordsmith takes time to be happy with expression of a deeper depth of feeling. This 'poem' has been an attempt to say how much I love them... as much as morning sunshine... as much as dancing daffodils... and more!!!!!!
Be like the busy black bumble bee.
Look for the warmth before we rust away.
It's SPRING!
Monday update:
Another very warm day... that did not turn cold until 17h. The sky stayed clear all day with WARM sunshine whereas yesterday there were afternoon showers. There is a brilliant setting sun. I see red streaks in the sky at 18h.
On Sunday morning I was so overjoyed with the signs of Spring that I started to think that France on a glorious warm February morning is such a golden treasure.
Yesterday, I was thinking about my grown up children and thinking that because of the choices I made about life they cannot be here to enjoy what I enjoy! Neither can I be with them to enjoy what they enjoy!!!! I keep tweaking the words... a wordsmith takes time to be happy with expression of a deeper depth of feeling. This 'poem' has been an attempt to say how much I love them... as much as morning sunshine... as much as dancing daffodils... and more!!!!!!
Friday 14 February 2014
Words from several years ago - adapted
How can we escape from words?
Some words are like gentle angels opening their wings and wafting gently into our hearts.
How can we fly with wings?
Words try to communicate
Sometimes therein lies miscommunication, misunderstanding, hurt, struggle, sorrow.
Words try to communicate
Sometimes are as soft as rain, or hot as the sun or like the lick of an ice cream
creating joy, positive feeling, cosiness, security, safety.
How we love to be loved.
Words are only words.
Often they are insufficient to express emotion.
Love is an inner struggle.
The greatest love is unconditional.
Those were my thoughts.
Thursday 9 January 2014
Passion Ate Self Pity
in the absence
of further renovation projects beyond a dream,
and
in the absence
of exciting adventures beyond a horizon,
i drift into adventures of the mind,
to consider in the looking glass
what passion stirs behind,
within the brain.
i listen to what the walrus had to say
when he suggested
"the time has come to talk of many things".
Without procrastination
he tackled the task in hand
to demonstrate
passion-ate!
copyright RestlessinFrance
I like to play with words and talk of many things!
One of my passions is attempting to play Chopin Nocturnes. I can reasonably play four and others are being learned. That is the task in hand for 2014. Recently, I've taken to listening to and playing along with the Great Masters on You Tube. OK I can't keep up the speed of the central section of opus 15 number 1 - the right hand fingers need greater flexibility! A friend gave me an old CD player which skips a beat...I skipped a beat when he offered it to me...but jacked into my laptop it can sure belt out the volume, which means I can hear the music at the same time as playing my piano!
Another passion is cooking but cooking for one has become uninspired. I've gathered all my cookbooks together and am aghast at how many I have in various states of 'used' or 'unused'. I ought to start reading them to gain inspiration. Once upon a time ago I made all my Indian savouries and desserts from single ingredients. We didn't have Pataks in those days! Maybe I would like to start making pasta. Several birthdays have gone by without receiving a pasta machine and they're not expensive so just maybe.. perhaps..I could have a reward a little later on! Indonesian food appeals too. I love Wagamama's. Maybe a focus on terrines or tarts... mmmmm.....
Another passion is writing... I do a lot of that. It has been emotional outpouring but now self-pity has been washed away...almost drowned in fact ... it'd better not re-surface or it'll need another shove under! And yet...emotional outpouring has created quite a few story scripts and poetry efforts...and a friend who read them made complimentary remarks. Oh arrogance, get thee gone!
I KNOW I want to collate all the scribings I have in various places into some kind of literary presentation .. for me .. not for anyone else in particular...except maybe....
It isn't a Passion but I am currently choosing to solve various issues / matters that have flawed and floored me, that require literary effort, mathematical skills and social negotiating skills, not that I have many, and those that I did have are rather rusty! At last the brain is beginning to work again and even shows signs of motivation and discipline. It's jolly hard work to keep on task and every now and then I nag myself to get back to it. Sometimes I've lost what I am looking for or I go to a room and can't remember why I am there.. so I stand calmly, track back and quickly remember! Self-discipline is hard to find.
The admin for the velo accident is ongoing. I must solve the annuity problem and how to access hard cash to do what I want to do. I need a job!!!!!! I have a job in the wings ... it's called "clear stuff in attic" "get a grip on mysteries of ebay/paypal"... generate funds for travel, which I yearn for like I yearn for Passion. If I can't do it this year then the plan is to start to organise thoughts and resources for the following year. SMALL STEPS! I consider this to be positive and not procrastination!
I am reading books. No, not the electronic ones! Often I can be quite a slow reader in that I don't always want to read, but when I find a good book I get a bit obsessed and then will read long hours into the night.
I've decided to make postings about books.
Despite such nuisances as medical matters, the feet work very well!!!! BUT now ohhhhhhhh and ahhhhhhh - my arms have become very painful!!!! Woops... is that self pity?
AND to end, because I have just found it ....about two years ago a very dear friend, a wonderful teacher and mentor, wrote such very wise words:
of further renovation projects beyond a dream,
and
in the absence
of exciting adventures beyond a horizon,
i drift into adventures of the mind,
to consider in the looking glass
what passion stirs behind,
within the brain.
i listen to what the walrus had to say
when he suggested
"the time has come to talk of many things".
Without procrastination
he tackled the task in hand
to demonstrate
passion-ate!
copyright RestlessinFrance
I like to play with words and talk of many things!
One of my passions is attempting to play Chopin Nocturnes. I can reasonably play four and others are being learned. That is the task in hand for 2014. Recently, I've taken to listening to and playing along with the Great Masters on You Tube. OK I can't keep up the speed of the central section of opus 15 number 1 - the right hand fingers need greater flexibility! A friend gave me an old CD player which skips a beat...I skipped a beat when he offered it to me...but jacked into my laptop it can sure belt out the volume, which means I can hear the music at the same time as playing my piano!
Another passion is cooking but cooking for one has become uninspired. I've gathered all my cookbooks together and am aghast at how many I have in various states of 'used' or 'unused'. I ought to start reading them to gain inspiration. Once upon a time ago I made all my Indian savouries and desserts from single ingredients. We didn't have Pataks in those days! Maybe I would like to start making pasta. Several birthdays have gone by without receiving a pasta machine and they're not expensive so just maybe.. perhaps..I could have a reward a little later on! Indonesian food appeals too. I love Wagamama's. Maybe a focus on terrines or tarts... mmmmm.....
Another passion is writing... I do a lot of that. It has been emotional outpouring but now self-pity has been washed away...almost drowned in fact ... it'd better not re-surface or it'll need another shove under! And yet...emotional outpouring has created quite a few story scripts and poetry efforts...and a friend who read them made complimentary remarks. Oh arrogance, get thee gone!
I KNOW I want to collate all the scribings I have in various places into some kind of literary presentation .. for me .. not for anyone else in particular...except maybe....
It isn't a Passion but I am currently choosing to solve various issues / matters that have flawed and floored me, that require literary effort, mathematical skills and social negotiating skills, not that I have many, and those that I did have are rather rusty! At last the brain is beginning to work again and even shows signs of motivation and discipline. It's jolly hard work to keep on task and every now and then I nag myself to get back to it. Sometimes I've lost what I am looking for or I go to a room and can't remember why I am there.. so I stand calmly, track back and quickly remember! Self-discipline is hard to find.
The admin for the velo accident is ongoing. I must solve the annuity problem and how to access hard cash to do what I want to do. I need a job!!!!!! I have a job in the wings ... it's called "clear stuff in attic" "get a grip on mysteries of ebay/paypal"... generate funds for travel, which I yearn for like I yearn for Passion. If I can't do it this year then the plan is to start to organise thoughts and resources for the following year. SMALL STEPS! I consider this to be positive and not procrastination!
I am reading books. No, not the electronic ones! Often I can be quite a slow reader in that I don't always want to read, but when I find a good book I get a bit obsessed and then will read long hours into the night.
I've decided to make postings about books.
Despite such nuisances as medical matters, the feet work very well!!!! BUT now ohhhhhhhh and ahhhhhhh - my arms have become very painful!!!! Woops... is that self pity?
AND to end, because I have just found it ....about two years ago a very dear friend, a wonderful teacher and mentor, wrote such very wise words:
"you probably need a new focus, something to really engage with & apply yourself to, to allow your natural self to re-emerge & flourish. It’s about self-expression. You have your musical talent…use it. You are a thinker and a communicator...do it. You can move mountains...do it. But not just for yourself, and not house renovation! Unpaid coaching, mentoring, volunteering, advocacy, committees, group activities…family."
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