Intrepid

SHADOW SHOT

http://heyharriet.blogspot.com/2011/02/shadow-shot-sunday-142.html


INTREPID!

(During a 'walk' in October)

See! A shadow of my former self! Propped up by a walking stick!

'Come for a little walk' he said, but that was just a trick!

I little guessed when we set-out, that the climb would be so steep,

Or the steps so chipped and jagged, or the drops so very deep!

I was wearing shoes with heels, not the best of hiking gear,

And the tangled vines were threatening, seeming very, very near.

Look at the following photo. See the gentleman down-right!

That will give you some idea of the pathway's depth and height!

See the climbers hanging on! And I did just the same!

Half-way up I realised that it was not my game!

If I'd turned back, however, I'd have climbed down alone!

Picture me breaking an ankle! Imagine my heartfelt groan!

And so I soldiered on and on until we reached the top;

Then came the climbing down again! Would the torture never stop?

At the top was a lovely garden with Clivia in masses,

Among the trees and sturdy rocks and ferns and tufted grasses.

And we found an overhanging rock used by Aborigines

In the days long, long ago, where they lived a life of ease.

There were smoke-stains on the 'roof-top' proving they'd burnt a fire.

(We often say their life-style left so much we can admire.)

In the end it was enjoyable, though I welcomed a helping hand,

Extended by a gentleman who was part of our merry band.

And I felt pleased with the way that I'd managed the rough terrain.

Only never ask me to pick up a walking stick and go for a walk again!

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LOW FINANCE

It seems to me, when somethings 'lost', unless it is destroyed,

It's still around! It hasn't swooped into some aching void.

If I 'lose' my car-keys (as I do) I know they still exist,

Under a cushion, down the drain or outside in the mist.

If someone else has found them and thrown them in a drawer,

They're still my keys; they haven't changed from how they were before.

And, if I never find them, and there are no guarantees,

They still exist, for keys are keys are keys are keys are keys!

They'll never be ghostly items, unable to perform,

A lost key's still a key, my friends; it hasn't changed its form!

So all these mislaid trillions that the world is searching for

Must still exist as trillions just as they were before!

For something 'lost' can't disappear; it must be hanging round

Waiting for someone clever to shout 'Whoopee! They're found!'

Unless, of course, they were never there, but just a great illusion,

And the thought of that just leaves me in a state of mad confusion!

Please write and tell me I'm not mad. I need an explanation!

Were they just a figment of collective imagination?

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PS

Today's shots are about four months old but I've only just received them. I entered a playwriting competition last year and became a finalist. The title of the competition was 'Short and Sweet' and the idea was to write a play with a strong plot that only took ten minutes from start to finish. I adapted one of my ridiculous melodramas, and I asked if I could also act in it. The title was 'Unhand Me'. I didn't win but I enjoyed the experience.

 In the dressing-room with the beautiful young virgin.

Jack, the very sexy Woodsman.

 Me, practising to be 80!

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