A Poem for Thursday

The Midsummer Knight's Dream

This morning at the Thursday morning writers group the prompt was  from Margaret K.

" Brush up your Shakespeare"

.

But some of us were grieving for another writer of both comedy and tragedy ....

Victoria Woods. 

Then on top of it being Shakespeare's birthday this week...a double whammy with The Queen's 90th. today. What a week! Now whether you are for or against the Monarchy...to celebrate a 90th birthday and be the longest reigning Queen ever, deserves at the very least a mention.

 But my thoughts were about Victoria...the Queen of Comedy since the 70s......and this one is for her...and for her beloved Morecambe...and in particular Lubin's...a place of inspiration. We were lucky enough to eat there  many times before it closed its doors for good. 

I have read that..." Is it on the trolley?"... maybe a quote from Lubin's !!!!!

Some artistic licence in this mad sonnet.

The Midsummer Knights Dream

We sat on the crimson red sofa,

The potter, the daughter and me.

We ordered a platter with cheeses

Some bread and a big pot of tea.

When who should come in through the doorway

With her children and husband in tow

Victoria and the Magician

In his best Sunday suit and his bow.

The sun caught the top of his bald pate,

She heaved up her boobs from below.

Her kids ordered meat pie at Lubin's

And icecream to have on the go.

But the dream was just Midsummer Madness

For she's gone, and we're left with our sadness.

Blogging, followers and friends!!

I've been posting blogs since March 2010...I can hardly believe that!

 But in all that time I've not personally met a single blogger friend. Well all that has changed! 

The timing was exact...the place was right ...the conversation started...and lo and behold...someone who actually had read my posts...finding them on the sidebar list of the wonderful Pen Wilcox. Stunned ..we both were.

I was standing by the Pithoi pots at The Beetham Garden Centre near Milnthorpe in Lancashire when as I was ringing the rims to make sure that the pot was whole..as.any little crack or flaw will not give a bell-like sound. (This I know from the potter himself!...he had rung one or two before going off to buy a pot for our Christmas present to one another.)

It's big!...some in the Tuesday evening ceramic group that he teaches wondered why he didn't make it himself...well...it's bigger than the kiln for a start! And pithoi from Crete are famous for their shapes and traditional decoration.

So now I'm a follower on "woolywanderer" on Instagram...I'm G Snape there.."Documenting the Mundane" by the way. And also a follower on multicolouredmadness.blogspot.com .

We hugged with laughter and tears and hugged again...two grown women who had never met but had so much in common! 

Well that's blogging for you. You wait five years and along comes a follower and then a friend. We shall plan to meet up again I'm sure of that as we both have homes around that glorious Bay I talk about so much.

Thankyou Blogspot...thankyou daughter amelieshouse.blogspot.co.uk for getting me started...thankyou senior grandgirl troase.blogspot.co.uk for encouraging and quietly showing me techie things!!

Restore my Soul...

I have needed my soul and emotional equilibrium restored recently....and today another blow came with a first class letter from the hospital....
I am actually amazed at how much we can take...and perhaps it's as we build on the past and realise we are still here that it happens.
I listened to the wonderful interview with Simon Armitage and Seamus Heaney last week...Heaney said that his work was built on the foundations of those poets who have gone before ...or words to that effect...

Being up at the Bay in the storm...you couldn't help but think back to Masefield's wonderful sea poem...
..."I must go down to the sea again,
to the lonely sea and the sky"....

So although I wrote this before I listened to Seamus Heaney.......Masefield's poem was deep inside me.

The sea ,the sea,

The roiling sea.

I must go down 

To sate my need.

My need , my need,

To sate my need.

For elemental 

Wind and water.

The wind, the wind,

The sucking wind.

Within my soul

It succours me.

My soul, my soul

That succours me.

Come claim me back

Come wind, come sea.

This is one for dVerse today.http://dversepoets.com/2013/02/05/openlinknight-week-82/#comment-29436http://dversepoets.com/2013/02/05/openlinknight-week-82/#comment-29436..I'm almost last in the pub...but just made it.

I'm adding Poetry Jam on the bottom of this post...just found a super poem on twitter

Lunch at The Palatine.

We sat in the big brown leather armchairs, looking out the window of the Palatine Bar at the sea and mountains, up in the Bay today...

...our first major outing since the potter came out of the jungle that is known as "The NHS"....not that we aren't thankful...we are...but it's still a place you don't want to get lost in!

...Watched the world ...or at least the people of the Bay, go past. 

Me drinking mulled cider and the potter loyally sticking to his fruity glass of pop...

...then just sat for a long while and enjoyed the luxury of the moment and scanned the newspaper for positive headlines...

...there's something timeless about a scene with people promenading in twos and threes along a sea front ...whether Spain in the sun or the Bay...with the wind caressing the beach flags, while the waters flood and in the distance, those old blue mountains edge the horizon...

...as they have done since the days when the ice melted!

Lunch was no disappointment either...the chef came out and mentioned that fresh turkey pie had just come out of the oven with crushed, buttered potatoes and buttered carrots on the side....well who could resist...?

... we didn't!!...

*

Time at the Bay.

We had a few days up at the house on the Bay this week.

The sky was a piercing blue and the water... still and quiet.

Lots of folk were out taking pics of the boats

... in the little harbour.

 

The hills in the distance matched the blue of the sky

and the primary colours of the fishing boats...with the reflections in the water...well...

...it couldn't have been more perfect.

Along the coast by the Red Bank farm...

...sea birds were gathering to fly off for the winter.

Then within 24 hours...

...all  changed...

 

The sky was grey and overcast and the sea competing with it for greyness.

A little egret searches for food on the rich sandy mud of the edge while it's partner has just flown off into the middle of the sands.

 

The autumn tide came right up to the edge of the  promenade 

...while the sky was threatening. 

But we snuggled up in the Palatine Pub with hot steak sandwiches and listened to the rain beating down ...outside the  windows!

Then ...back to the house ...running through the gusts of rain...

and feet up in the warmth of the old leather armchairs.

Humphrey's Flowers

How can these beauties survive in the harshness of the elements on a rock face and still look so gorgeous?

Another surviver!

poem

Pure silver

Links

A chain

Now broken

Then reformed

Ever closer

Built up

By hinterlinks

Fed

By multitudes of diamonds

Noiselessly creeping

Imperceptibly

Moving

Over dryness

Over sand

Till

We are surrounded

Taken by surprise

Taken by water.

I'm linking up to dVerse open link night week 47 with this poem.

New Work.

I seem to need a starter in my art.

"Starter for ten"...I hear you cry!

A muse, a book, an exhibition, a poem.

A visit to the Tate in Liverpool

or the Walker.

I saw an exhibition of Chinese artists just before Christmas.

The purity of the line and the meagreness of the palette was scrumptious.

So in need of something tangible I pulled out this book from the shelf.

I bought it in a second hand book shop quite a while ago and had a bit of a look from time to time.

All the artists are of the 20th c.

Li K'e-jan: Poets under Trees with Falling Leaves.

( describes this perfectly)

Me: Shell lying on the Beach in Goa.

( does it work?)

Lin Feng-mien: Herons in the Reeds.

( So few brush strokes).

Me: Driftwood Root with Stones Encased.

( did I get a bit too precious?)

Lin Feng-mien: Landscape with Yellow Trees.

Me: Driftwood with Hole - Found on the Bay.

(well I really did)

Lin Feng-mien: Actor in the Classical Opera.

Me : Large Driftwood in the Shape of Hiroshige's Wave.

( the name Hiroshige is classical!)

Why do the title's of the Chinese artists have such an authentic ring to them,

While mine might seem a little contrived I'm asking myself.

Ah well, I could call them....

Driftwood I

Driftwood II

Driftwood III

and Shell I

In fact I think I have, on the flickr site!!