My Sunday Poem … # 14

I first posted this in March 2016. It is a beautiful Spring day here in Troon and the daffodils are out in force.

1951 Club

My Sunday Poem … # 14

This is a poem I wrote many years ago when I was living in the wilds of north Norfolk. I’d joined a small group of mostly well established local authors and artists. Most of them could quite literally write (and drink) me under the table. Occasionally I came up with something half decent. 

To Spring 

Spring
Sweet lady of the flowers
Waiting on the golden gates of Summer
Queen that lends thy beauty to the earth
Out of Winter’s bleak and lowly rags you came
A child of the mist and cold
And though each being in time created
Calls thee by a different name
They love thee with a single knowing Soul.

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A Walk by the Lake

I just had to reblog Andrew’s poem. So moving.

Andrew's View of the Week

Remember the playful days of youth when the sun
shone down on green fields.
When you’d run so fast
that the wind would blow in your hair.

The joy of rolling down a grassy hill
or skipping a stone across the creek.
The quest for a four-leaf clover in a field of blue grass.

The freedom of not knowing the price
of the snow cones and pink popcorn
that mother bought from the snack shack.

That snack shack, right there.
Right there behind that decaying wall,
on that concrete slab behind the chain link fence

Wonder when they tore it out?
The new boathouse is looking old
on this cloudy morning.

The sign says we can’t feed the ducks.
Mother use to bring a bag of bread crusts.
Remember how fast they’d gather at the promise of that bag?

Guess the sun won’t be joining us this morning.
Yes, we…

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I,writer # 16 … Naming Pens

Routine Matters

I,writer # 16 … Naming Pens

Hello dear reader(s) …

This is not a post about pen names. If JK Rowling wants to call herself Robert Galbraith then that’s absolutely fine by me.

No. This is a post about naming pens. I am fully prepared to admit that this may sound a bit confusing. It may seem like I am splitting hairs but I’m not. Honestly. Sorry to be so annoyingly pedantic.

Even the computer seemed to be scratching its head in puzzlement. You know the form. I tried entering ‘naming pens’ into my friendly neighbourhood search-engine and it absolutely insisted on giving me results for pen names.

I also tried ‘my pen is called ...’ and I got some very useful results like 5 penis facts from NHS Choices and Question: Is my penis normal ?

Naming pens means pen naming …

I GIVE MY PENS NAMES

Some…

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Change of Plan!

A New Direction Perhaps?

I had another Post planned for today, but Carol came across a three minute video from TV2 Denmark! I found  it so moving, and so particularly relevant in our current times, that… well here it is! It would seem to me that the more “mileage” this video gets, the better off we should all be.

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The most important thing in life …

Routine Matters

The most important thing in life …

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Letter to Santa …

Routine Matters

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Letter to Santa …

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60 years: Then and Now

I have reblogged this excellent post from Ellie over at crossedeyesanddottedtees.

Crossed Eyes and Dotted Tees

Things sure were different in 1956.

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I, Writer … # 15

Routine Matters

I, Writer … # 15

I, GHOSTWRITER

I’d answered an advert online.

Ghost Writer required. Hours to suit. Reasonable rates.

Excellent conditions. A job for life.

So, there I was, in a cemetery, leaning against a tombstone taking dictation from Dearly Departed. We’d worked out a series of alphabetic taps and scrapes. Not Morse code exactly but near enough. I won’t bore you with the details at the moment. Suffice to say, it worked. Dearly Departed had an eternity and I had time on my hands.

My spirited friend, who I shall now refer to as DD, had always wanted to write a novel. It’s never too late in my opinion. And besides, literature from the Great Beyond is always so classy. 

The opening sentence had been very tricky …

I am damned.

Good. Quite good. A little bit more perhaps …

I am so damned.

Yes. Quite…

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On the Road … 1951

On the road is my theme for the week for reasons which will become apparent … 😃🚙

1951 Club

On the Road is a novel by American writer Jack Kerouac. On The Road is based on the travels of Kerouac and his friends across America. It is considered a defining work of the postwar Beat Generation with its protagonists living life against a backdrop ofjazz, poetry, and drug use. The novel was published in 1957 but the first draft of what was to become the published novel was written in three weeks in April 1951.The film adaptation of On the Road was released in 2012.

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That post about Robert Big Track …

That post about Robert Big Track …

That post about Robert Big Track really got me thinking. Well, I don’t actually mean it got me thinking. I was already thinking something already. Wasn’t I ? Anyway. It doesn’t matter.

If you look at the pages listed right at the top you will see one called THE GARDEN. This new page is respectfully dedicated to folk born in 1951 who have since passed away.