Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Handwriting Two


Here is a little handy hint
About the letters that you print
Or write in flowing arty style,
Gauging each curve and loop the while.
Let us have a look at SIZE.
Read this and you'll become more wise
Judging every scribbled note
That a friend or enemy wrote.
Large writing marks the self reliant,
Not the modest and compliant.
Active restless, easy-going,
Rarely faltering or slowing.
Extroverts who're never shy,
Always reaching for the sky.
But they can be over-bearing,
If so, others find them wearing!
Small-sized writers think a lot,
Like to cogitate and plot,
Academics often write
In a style that's rather tight.
If the writing's very small
With hardly any height at all
The writer may be in his shell.
It's hard to know him very well.
As for the medium-size, they're fine,
So well-balanced that they shine.
Bold enough to stand their ground
But they don't bully those around.
Shy enough to be reserved
And get the praise that's so deserved.
In a personality test
The middle-ground can be the best.

An interesting signature here:

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Leading Lady


They met at a cocktail party and a cursory glance revealed
That both were smart and wealthy and, in a word, well-heeled.
She was a blonde, with a chignon, and a very unlikely tan.
He was tall and courteous and just her sort of man.
Cora, for that was the lady's name, kept her eyes on Lance all night
And those eyes were heavy with make-up and very blue and bright.
Lance couldn't help but notice that, whichever way he turned,
Her eyes were fixed on him alone and with excitement burned.
At last, in exasperation, he went up to Cora and said
'Excuse me, have we met before?' (Oh he was well-bred!)
''No we've never met before' she said, still as intently gazing,
'But you look like my third husband. The likeness is amazing!'
Not wishing to be impolite, making small-talk as you do
Said Lance 'So you've had three husbands.'
'Oh no!' she said 'Only two.'

Another approach to romance here:

Monday, March 29, 2010

The Cord

                                                  Mary Westring
I have discovered a brand new Blog

I wrote this little frippery in response to her delightful satirical art work.


The umbilical cord
That links us to Reality
Has no cord.
Odd that!

The Great Womb
Called cyberspace
Is on the end of
That non-existent cord.

The Mother who nurtures us,
Talks to us,
Compliments us,
Reminds us,
Bolsters our confidence
And is our greatest friend.
The world is terrifying.
We are surrounded by the Unknowns,
Strange people mill about us.
We can avoid contact
By retaining our link
To the Great Mother.
'Keep close' she says.
'I speak with a thousand voices
But have no fear
For I am with you.
To prove that you exist.

Beauty in the Bark


The eucalyptus leaf, I find, is dull in the extreme.
But the bark's a different story! See its patterns! See it gleam!
Here I offer a homage to some of the bark one sees
As one looks for different 'paintings' on the eucalyptus trees.

Elderly skin, scarred by the years,
Sad and faded now,
Creamy, undulating, pale,
On every  trunk and bough.

Nature has painted a pallid shape
Against a sunset sky,
Like a cave-painted hand from long ago,
Leaving it there to dry.

Snow as it thaws, all mixed with stains
From the bush-land all around.
Metallic bitter memories
Leaching into the ground.

More bush magic here:

Sunday, March 28, 2010

Memetics Three


The final of my memetic cheat.
Week Three will make it all complete.
After my Dancing Dervish days
Exhausting in so many ways,
I can return to my little study
And once more be a fuddy-duddy,
Blogging gaily in isolation,
Delighting in my situation.
Then I'll attack new memes with verve
Give them the attention they deserve.
Parties and holidays behind me,
I'll make sure the Linky Man can find me!


This is my South African friend
Who thought she'd follow the Pollock trend.
Red-smocked Michelle on a painting spree
And son Greg grimacing with glee!
Just a shop window in the town.
A car, a street and a modeled gown.

A bridge in Sydney. Can't recall the name,
Which, since it's attractive, is a shame!

I've been to Finland. No time was spent
In such a glorious yellow tent!

Weekend barbecues are commonplace.
A gazebo adds a touch of grace.
A blue, blue plane and a blue, blue sky.
The lions just happened to be passing by.


Another chance to smell the flowers!
Maxine has telepathic powers!

Photographed at the bowling-green.
The palm-tree shadow looks serene.
A cement sofa! Please do sit!
But if you want trivia this is it!

Swing low, sweet chariot, then swing high.
Max is learning how to fly!
Clouds above Uluru, Ayres Rock,
Where all the tourists like to flock.
And so ends my great deception.
I can only guess at its reception.
Next week I'll return to normal,
To Blog in a fashion much more formal!

Saturday, March 27, 2010


An Acrostic

True, it's brought us gadget toys beyond our wildest dreams!
Everything that can be made is being made it seems!
Clever people keep 'improving life', or so they say.
Happily we grasp at every brand new chance to 'play'.
Now we have the whole world in our grasp with just one click!
Ordinary people are becoming 'wise' and 'slick'.
Letters once were written with such elegance and grace;
(Oh, what we have lost pursuing this, our faster pace!)
Gains are always matched by losses, downsides must exist.
Yes! We've gained an awful lot.
But should we now desist?

Technology gone mad here:

Friday, March 26, 2010

A Quirk at Work


Oh that quirky DNA!
It works in a peculiar way!
I've always loved to tread the boards 
(Though never winning fat awards!)
My two children would rather die
Than act! they say they'd feel too shy.
Yet here's my cousin's daughter, Ruth,
'A chip off the old block'! That's the truth!
Here she's a drunk! (Putting on an act.
We're a sober family; that's a fact!)
Britain's rather too far to go,
Or else I'd have paid to see the show.
Although Ruth's certainly not a daughter
Doesn't it prove blood's thicker than water!

Happy Birthday Malcolm!


If we reach three score and ten we feel we've made the grade
So anyone who's eighty absolutely has it made!
To be healthy is a bonus that not everyone achieves;
We feel they must have some important secret up their sleeves!
Well, today Malcolm is eighty, so we wish him all the best.
It's a really important milestone and we're suitably impressed!
Happy Birthday Malcolm, though you don't want any fuss.
The very best of wishes from every one of us!



By a trick of the turning world two people, a day apart,
Are celebrating a birthday, though it wasn't like that at the start!
Here, in Oz, it's the 26th, in America the day before,
So now they share a birthday, which they didn't in days of yore!
One is my husband, Malcolm (he isn't awake just yet)
The other my old friend Margaret (seen here at the time we met!)
So Happy Birthday to them both. I'm proud to be the link!
Let's make a toast in cyberspace and hear the glasses clink!

Thursday, March 25, 2010

The Greengrocer

Many years ago I wrote a musical play for children called 'The Cicada Circus'. In it the various cicadas, all of which have pet names in Australia, performed in their own particular way in the circus ring.
Here is the song of


If you give me a banana I will toss it in the air
Then I'll follow it with spinach and a juicy yellow pear
And while they hang suspended I will add a cauliflour
And I'll keep them spinning round and round for maybe half an hour!
You can throw in a tomato if it's nice and round and red
And I'll keep a cabbage twirling in the air above my head.
I can juggle like a master. I'll be quite the best you've seen.
I may be inexperienced but no-one calls me 'green'.
How about a bunch of carrots
Or a few zucchini?
Forget your talking parrots!
 I'll be famous as Houdini!
So a pumpkin's on my nose? Well, I balance it with ease
While toying with a turnip or a bag of frozen peas!
And when my act is over and I let the whole lot drop,
The audience will shout and clap and call out
'Please don't stop!'


Another circus cicada here:

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

My Solution

(A Fantasy)

Jews and Arabs are all the same, brothers under the skin,
So why on earth is Jerusalem in the awful state it's in?
I'm an Agnostic, I don't care who owns the 'holy' city,
But, certainly, all this wrangling is very far from pretty!
I have a little fantasy that I could put things right
And the future of the Middle East could again be shiny bright!
I don't look like a Terrorist; I'm elderly and grey,
I'm a female Anglo-Saxon and I don't even pray!
What if I went as a tourist, so innocent-looking, me!
But I went intent on blowing-up every monument I could see.
What if I could wreak destruction on a truly massive scale
And then escape on the next plane not leaving any trail?
What would they have to fight about? They'd have to co-exist
As they cleared-up the rubble, using hand instead of fist!
And, in time, the lovely grass would grow, as depicted up above,
And Arab and Jew would settle down in a City of Brotherly Love!
Of course, it's just a fantasy. Instead, my friends, I fear
The wrangling will go on and on year after year after year!
I'll never see it settled. I'm much to old for that,
But I'm a cross old Granny saying
'What are you playing at?'
Imagine a New Jerusalem, without Religion's taint!
I might go down in history!
I might be made a Saint!

"Jeweled Jeopardy"

We have a Melodrama 'club' and we go round to various gatherings and perform melodramas. There's a lot of audience involvement. 'Wish you were here.'

Letter 'J'

(A lighthearted melodrama)

Pam is the Director of our silly little play,
'Jeweled Jeopardy', with which we're having fun.
She bosses us and pleads with us and always gets her way,
And she's obeyed by each and every one!

Joy plays the role of 'Fifi'; she is our ravishing French Maid,
 Her mannerisms suit this to perfection.
She's pursued by her employer, but she is rather staid,
And keeps running in the opposite direction.
Here's another Pam; she is the Villain of the piece;
As you can see, he's rather over-weight!
Sir Vincent is his name; his shilly-shallyings never cease,
And he always has his eye on his next mate! 
Here's Loretta, Fifi's mother, who's always on the gin;
She has a few choice bottles in her bag!
She's insulted by Sir Vincent but she takes it on the chin. 
She's really an impossible old hag! 
Roslyn's Kit, the hero; living on a Batman's pay;
He hates Sir Vincent playing fast and loose.
But in the end he proves that every dog can have his day,
Even though he doesn't say 'Boo' to a goose!

Here's Brenda; she is Maisie, Sir Vincent's latest wife;
A gold-digger and surely on the make.
Wherever Maisie goes there's sure to be a lot of strife,
Her love for Vincent's nothing but a fake!
Here's Betty; she is Oswald, a murderer and fraud,
Adored by Maisie for his sex-appeal.
He plans to kill old Vincent and run away abroad
He's what we'd call a good old-fashioned 'heel'.
Joy and Pauline; Gossips, over the garden fence,
Commenting on the action, as it were.
Sometimes, I fear, the ladies do not make a lot of sense!
But we laugh at them whenever they confer.
Finally, here's Jill, who keeps the props and such in line;
That's why she's shown in much more normal dress.
In her hand she has a torch; that's how the moon will shine.
The 'moonlight' scene is something to impress!
There's the line-up of our play; not exactly 'Broadway' stuff!
But the audience sings with us all the way.
And we may not be The Old Vic, but I think we're good enough.
We hope you'll come and see us in our play! 
A very different theatre here:

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

The Haz Bean

woke full of Spring Fever today and wrote a nonsense poem!
I just had to respond. Sorry!


A jelly-bean fell in a birdie's nest
Among the eggs of Spring.
And the birdie said, not being impressed,
'What's this queer little thing?'
Nevertheless, she sat on it,
Her instincts to the fore.
When the jelly-bean melted
She certainly felt it!
She wont do that any more!

Crimson Posters


A visit to the Opera House resulted in this shot;
As soon as I espied them I 'clicked' them, on the spot!
Two posters of a similar hue displayed for all to see.
A godsend to a 'Crimson' blogging-lady such as me!
Same place, different perspective here:

Monday, March 22, 2010



'The Best One Hundred Poetry Blogs'
And Bryantics is included!
Did I read the email right
Or am I just deluded?
Now I must start digesting
The other ninety-nine,
With poetry much superior
To the doggerel that's mine!
Below I'll print the URL
So visitors can see
The organisation , named above,
That has so honoured me!

Precious Drop



Said the Little Green Toad to the Little Old Tap
'I hope we don't meet with some mishap!
The world is full of pain and slaughter
But I can manage if I have water.
Water! The very stuff of life!
Without it every other strife
Doesn't really mean a thing.
Water rules! Water is king!
Let's hope those humans keep it flowing!
If not, I don't know where we're going!

A different look at the lack of it here:

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Sing Song!

the words in blue
'The Poet and his Song' by Paul Laurence Dunbar

A song is but a little thing, And yet what joy it is to sing!
To organise each vocal chord and spread the wondrous sound abroad!
Who cares if sounds are less than pure,and hard for listeners to endure;
If a weak and squeaky note just sort of dribbles from your throat;
If twiddly bits just sink and waver, not doing anyone a favour;
If listeners are seen to scowl and call your efforts just a howl;
If every musical refrain makes neighbours act as though in pain;
If passers by are seen to cower when you are singing in the shower?
Well, I care! Since you are a flop!
Take my advice my friend and
A very special song here:

Photographic Phun!


(A Family Sunday Saga!)

'Take our photos, Grandma! We're in our soccer gear!'
Two little voices at the front door rang out loud and clear!

'Try to look normal, Harry! That smile's rather  strange!
Do something different with your face! Try to rearrange!'

'Is that what 'normal' looks like! I don't think much of that!
 Try something a bit happy... but not like a Cheshire cat!'

' Maybe our funny faces are better after all!
O.K. We're on our way now to kick a soccer ball!'

Memetics Two


Although free time has flown the coop,
I want to stay within the loop.
Birthday parties, trips and shows
Will still be keeping me on my toes,
And yet I cannot bear to miss
My little dose of daily bliss.
Soon, when all the madness ceases
And I pick up the bits and pieces
I'll revert to my daily scheme,
Responding to each up-and-coming meme.
Until then, this form must suffice.
At least you're getting it half-price!
When Maxine was a bouncing baby
Did she snap at people then? Well, maybe!
Abseiling down a Castle wall
Where I used to live once. Please don't fall!
 Our Surf Club banner and it's yellow.
A Life Saver's a plucky fellow.
Little Surfers getting fit.
The water's just a part of it.

Flowers massed in a local shop.
Admiration made me stop.
Exercising by the sea.
Something seen here frequently.
Sydney's icons pale and cower.
It seems there's going to be a shower!
Decorated didgeridoos.
Pleasant to see, but hard to use!
Reflections in a restaurant ceiling.
I think the curves are quite appealing.
King Edward Park on a sunny day.
Great for wiling one's time away.
A ruby lantern lends a glow
To the street where all the shoppers go.
Pleasant shade from the summer heat
And it is just across the street.
This has a Readers Digest feel!
Just a snack instead of a meal!
Was it one of my more ridiculous schemes? 
At least it's kept me in the Land of Memes!