Monday, November 14, 2011


                                                                                   Liz Shephard



If I return as a flower, and I rather hope I might,
Reincarnate me as an iris, such a very pleasant sight.
I would flaunt each lovely petal as I reached up to the sky
Saying ' I'm reborn so beautiful that it was right that I should die.'


'While I'm away' said Mother,
'Make sure you practise your scales!
Practice makes perfect, my darling;
An adage that never fails!
Make sure you practise that little waltze
That Father likes so well!
When he comes home from work tonight
He will be able to tell
If you haven't been industrious!
I'll be away an hour!
Now, don't be a baby, Petunia!
No need to look so sour!'
I practised my scales, and the little waltze
For just a moment or two;
Then a smell drifted up from the kitchen,
As smells are inclined to do!
It was Emily making a pudding!
I could sense the aroma of spice!
There were plums, there were dates, there was brandy!
And they tell me brandy is nice!
My fingers fell still on the keyboard,
For a moment I fought temptation!
Well-brought-up little girls like me
Must always remember their station!
Emily was 'below stairs',
Not the rightful place for me.
All I ever saw of Emily
Was when she brought up the tea!
I pushed open the door to the kitchen;
Inside it was warm and cosy
With Emily humming a little tune;
With her cheeks all bright and rosy.
'Come in, love' she said, in a friendly way;
'I'm sure you're lonely upstairs!'
She didn't seem to mind a bit
That I'd caught her unawares!
I put on one of her aprons,
Though it dragged down on the floor,
And I had such fun that afternoon;
I was happy as never before!
I mixed, I stirred, I sifted!
I even licked the spoon!
But, oh dear, the front door opened!
 It was Mother, home too soon!


Although  Spring has two more weeks to go, Summer has arrived, well and truly. Yesterday we took our lunch down to the beach and it was crowded with people enjoying themselves.

It all looked idyllic though some bodies were still rather pale.

This one is for Mike, who will remember the old Surf House, which was riddled with cement cancer, and inhabited by pigeons! The new edifice is quite grand. However, some of the old surfers wont go anywhere near it!

Here is Malcolm, walking among the crowds.

And here is Brenda, escaping to a quiet area for a snack.

1 comment:

Pie said...

That's a lovely blue.

My Blue Monday.