Saturday, July 28, 2012

Dear Little Weed


We are asked to include yellow with the pink this week.


Oh mourn for the little lantana, for it is noxious weed,
And though it tries to spread around we don't let it succeed!
We dig it out! We poison it! We treat it with revulsion!
And all we hope for, hereabouts, it's it's imminent expulsion!
Maybe in some parts of the world it's treated with respect,
But here, in the land Down-Under, death is all it can expect.
And yet lantana's little flowers are jewels of delight,
In pinks and yellows, every flower is delicate, yet bright.
The little florets in each flower are perfect in design.
Look at it under a microscope! It's a favourite flower of mine!
So, think, you may not care for yourself too much at all, indeed
You may consider that, compared to some, you're nothing but a weed,
And yet, to some admirers, you're more lovely than a rose!
Concentrate on your lovers and strike a cheerful pose!


Sweet, sweet dreams of long ago,
Bathed in a golden piano glow.
Memories of days long past
Which went too fast, which went too fast.
My mother spoke of them with yearning,
Longing for them to be returning.
Families gathered in the gloom
Of a well-upholstered Victorian room,
Listening to Alice playing
While, with hushed voices, they were saying
'Alice  plays so very well
And she's grown into quite a belle.
Soon a husband must be found.
Everyone must look around.'
Ah yes, the scene is sweet, no doubt,
But Alice had to do without
Freedom of choice, which we enjoy,
Just because she wasn't born a boy.
I sometimes think of days gone by
And give a sentimental sigh,
But then I recall the price they paid!
Give me today!
 Girls have it made!
This has been quite a week, socially. Not only did we see the film mentioned yesterday, but we enjoyed a Xmas-in-July lunch with friends as well. This is a nostalgic celebration in Australia, paying homage to cold Christmases overseas. Xmas is normally celebrated with cold food or a barbecue here, as the weather is normally hot, so the July meal is always a hot one.Here is Malcolm looking mellow.

Then our choir gave a concert at a local retirement village. Here are some of the choristers waiting to line-up.
Barbara B, Betty B, Barbara F, Dawn and Jan.
Betty D, Vi, Pam and Bev.
To close the week we put-on a performance of 'Cindy Eller' at a local Day Care hall, called The Coffee Pot. *
The cast surrounding a gentleman who was celebrating his 90th birthday.
* Our beach area was once heavily mined and a special little engine was created to traverse some of the narrow tunnels leading from the mine. This was nick-named The Coffee Pot, and the name has lingered in different guises.


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