Friday, October 14, 2011



Once a picture full of colour,
But now it's better expressed by duller
Shades and sepia, grey and white,
Nothing too vibrant or too bright.
For this is a faded memory
Of happy days that used to be.
When Blake was only very small
And Mike, his friend, seemed very tall.
Life is still happy and full of fun,
But those early days are done.
Blake is now nearly as tall as me!
Time takes the colour from memory.


What a wondrous word is Widdershins!
It makes it very clear
That it means 'going the wrong way';
It once meant 'anticlockwise'
Or going 'against the sun',
But I associate it with wind
When it's having a bit of fun.
It can widdershin the scudding clouds
Across a blustery sky
It can widdershin the breeze-blown trees
When their branches scrape the sky.
It can widdershin our neat-combed hair
Till it blows across our faces,
And none of our careful coiffured 'bits'
Are staying in their places!
It can whip stray hairs into our eyes!
Then, when we think it's easing,
It can suddenly blow the other way
To prove that it was teasing!
It's good to follow a well-worn path
And to be neat and obey.
But oh the joy of Widdershins
When we get blown away!

1 comment:

jabblog said...

Colours do fade from memory, though the memories are as sharp as ever - I'd never thought of that before.
I love saying 'widdershins' and look for any excuse to use it.