It may be late but worth the wait, the Rotary float’s in view.
Give them all a wave- the Worthing Crier, in costume gold and blue.
I can hear the beat of the samba band and see the pom-poms, too.
They spin and punch ( without any lunch) on lorries all forming a queue.
Let the music blare as the people stare; I love parades, don’t you?
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.
Well. I finished the fiction book first. The author is Chris Bohjalian and for most of the story I was gripped by the characters and their plight. I enjoyed the spooky house and the ‘herbalists’ but found it a little more difficult to cope with the ‘ghosts.’
I was , however, very disappointed with the ending. Why do so many writers rush the endings? I would have liked to hear the group planning how they were going to get away with what they had done and I lost empathy with the hero in the epilogue.
Now to finish the non fiction.
Sixty eight copies now gone or going. I need to keep some to take on holiday. I guess it will all slow down from now on. Trouble is, I have been so busy marketing that I haven’t written anything for two weeks. Looking forward to producing the pantomime, starting next month and then the scriptwriting course. Thoroughly enjoying two books I am reading at the moment, one fiction, one non-fiction. I’ll review them when I have finished. I don’t seem able to find folk on Goodreads so I’m communicating on twitter instead. More about my activities can be found on http://www.juliecround.co.uk
I did it again! Trying to find who posted a ‘like’ for my poem I clicked ‘like’ by mistake. I must be getting tired.To make up for it I’ll try to find a picture.
THE BIRD HOUSE
Ripe ivy climbs the garden wall, green flower fingers bunched, berry-like.
A wooden bird house by the gate waiting for pigeon, robin, magpie,
Each morning filled with corn and seed, a tasty breakfast for all to feed.
A squirrel leaps from garage roof, sits, grey tail aloft, to choose and chew.
The busy sparrows wait their turn in thorny bush – their hiding place.
When large birds leave they nip inside, pecking and picking, then flit away.
A mouse finally tries his luck but there’s nothing left in the bird house.
The charity do was a play day at the bowling green at Marine gardens in Worthing. It was a lovely morning and we had some fun bowling , a coffee in the restaurant and came back with a home made cake.