How is it that I suddenly get ‘featured’ on my blog and an orange note that ‘sticky’ has seen it? At least, I guess that is what it means. I’m really happy if I am getting discovered but sorry not to have anything brilliant to impart. I can give you another verse, however, not mine, this time, but also from our new poetry anthology, “Reflections, Then and Now.”
It isn’t there, you cannot see or feel or touch this mystery
This presence is not noticed. It passes you unseen.
Only when it’s passed one by does one know that it has been.
When it seems to travel slowly we wish it would speed up
When seemingly it travels fast then we wish that it would last.
Only when it’s gone away does one wish that it would stay.
Where, I wonder, is it bound, slipping by without a sound?
It comes up from the future and drops into the past
Moving swift with certainty- it travels to eternity.
Something which is constant, defying understanding
Which is quite unbending and seems never ending
Providing freedom from illusion in a world filled with confusion.
Yesterday we watched the service and march past at the Cenotaph. The royals looked extra sad but the march past was excellent.
Then, in the evening, our folk club had a remembrance theme and we had a great variety of songs, from those from the American Civil War, Elvis Presley standards, through the two World Wars, to loves lost and past times remembered. We also had poems from Bryan and one that Joan had written for our poetry anthology, “Reflections, Then and Now” about her Granddad returning from the front.
It seemed a fitting way to end the weekend. I just wish there was some way of changing the style of poppy each year. We still buy some but we have a number of them in the house and soon there will be enough for one on every coat and we will have to start throwing them away. Somehow that seems a shame.
Wow! Panto almost ready for recording. Only one missing sound and three of us are working hard to find it. I had fun looking at all the sounds one can find on line. A completely new experience for me and I hope I don’t forget how to do it.
Then the final module of my radio drama course came with so much information I had to print it off. It may be useful soon as I am helping in a workshop next week and promised to tell everyone how I found it.
Writing Magazine sent a Christmas parcel which looks exciting. Somehow I have to get energised to be more creative. If I get started on a musical event for 2018 I may feel I am doing something worthwhile. Meanwhile I have ordered the new bookmarks and the poetry anthology is still selling well.
Perhaps I’ll try to take more pictures next year.
We are down to the last fifteen of “Reflections,”with orders still coming in. Maybe I ought to concentrate on writing and publishing poetry instead of trying to learn script writing. I was worried about not having an ISBN number but selling person to person seems to be my forte.
May be off line for a while soon. Trying to write a short story but the plot is sliding away from me because it is based on fact. Some people can mix the two but I find it almost impossible. ( Except in ” A Lesson for the Teacher”) Booking up for a book fair in March – had to buy a new diary!
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.
Excited because I only have 20 copies of “Reflections, Then and Now” left so I am tempted to get some more printed. I didn’t realise men would like the book as much, if not more, than women. I have never had such good feedback from anything I have written.
Also looking forward to the panto casting session on Tuesday – twelve people coming for ten parts. Being a producer, even if it is only in audio,is a daunting task. It’s a bit like judging a beauty contest – I’m bound to upset somebody.
At last I am beginning to communicate on wordpress. I thought only folk in America and India read my blog but, hooray, welcome Pete and Pete’s friends.
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.