Turbines

Across the far horizon, slim and proud

Waiting for wind to turn their bladed arms

They stand, unbending in their simple beauty

Evoking a memory of flour mills

When Jack and Jill ground corn upon the Downs

Delightful in their practicality

Their movement and their shape both treasured now.

Yet we are blind to the pure elegance

Of regiments of turbines out at sea

A blot upon the landscape, it is claimed

Yet, in the future, they may be admired

As pinnacles of artistic design

As needed as the mills of yesterday,

A symbol of man’s ingenuity.

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Let me see!

Now a problem. I have been sent a webmail file that my computer won’t open. This security business gets worse.It has a time limit on it, too so I’ll have to warn the sender that I can’t read it.

As it was the first example of the panto recording and I am the producer I need to hear it

Meanwhile, here’s another holiday photo. I can’t tell you about my writing because I haven’t done any but we did display some copies of books and they sold well.IMG_0377

Bournemouth

Away for the weekend in a hotel in Bournemouth which was far too hot but the food was excellent – I suppose you can’t expect perfection.

Our only trip out was to the Russell-Cotes Museum which was great for anyone who shared the Victorians’ love of foreign souvenirs and British art but not really the kind of place my husband enjoys. I liked seeing the extravagant way they had decorated the inside of the house, especially the ‘Moorish’ room and the fancy wallpaper in the study but couldn’t think why artists of the period were so fond of large pictures of sheep or cows. I only photographed the exterior.

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Summer Sentinels

All there was between the hotel and the sea.The story for today is what happened on the beach. We sat under a parasol on two loungers.While hubby went into the sea with his snorkelling gear I read a novel. The lady on the next lounger said ” I liked the cover of your book.” As I had brought a copy of “Never Run Away” and put it in the hotel library I replied ” Thank you – that’s one of six. I hope you enjoy the story. I did wonder if anyone was going to pick it up.”

“No, I meant the book you are reading.”

“Oh, I thought you meant the one I wrote.”

“Do you write books?”

So I told her about them and she said she would read the copy in the hotel. I think she’ll like it as she reads ‘women’s books,’ whereas someone who liked detective novels or sci-fi might not be so interested.

When we had conversed for a little longer I turned to find hubby climbing out of the sea, assisted by THREE young women! He’d lost his footing on the sandy ledge and they’d rushed to help. Unforgettable!

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Reciting poetry

Some poems cry out to be read aloud while others are just for private consumption. Our poetry anthology has both and I had the pleasure of reading out a couple last night at the Willows folk club in Arundel. This time I read one by our friend Bryan as that was more likely to make people laugh and it did. I get a real kick out of making people laugh. I can see why comedians enjoy their job.

I bought a copy of Pam Ayres’ verses from a charity stall last month and found a new favourite. Although I like “I wish I’d looked after me teeth,” there’s one entitled “Heaps of Stuff” which is so true I feel I want to find somewhere to recite it, just to get a reaction! Mind you, I can’t do that lovely accent so it might not be so successful.

The book is “The Works” selected poems, and the quality varies so I won’t do a review.She said herself her verses were written to be spoken out loud and she sounds great performing them.

Another sample poem.

Autumn Thoughts

Now, in the Autumn of our years we wait to see what Winter brings

While russet beauty calms our fears, chill Winter hints of sufferings.

We’ve savoured all the joys of youth, forged paths through lifetime’s verdant Spring

The love and laughter constant proof Summer is time for blossoming.

Now Autumn sees us slow – and taste the harvest of our earlier years,

Determined that we should not waste the lessons learned from hopes and fears.

But all the wisdom garnered then cannot protect from Winter’s cold.

There’s no escape the fate of men to live the seasons and grow old.