Patterns on the Ceiling

                                      The Big Room;Andrew Wyeth

THE MAG

http://magpietales.blogspot.com.au/

supplied the illustration

PATTERNS ON THE CEILING

A very different picture and yet it brought back memories

Of a very different childhood long ago,

When I lived in a colder climate where winters lasted long,

And the air was often full of sleet and snow.......

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I'd never heard of Andrew Wyeth and his 'Big Room' work of art,

So I looked them up on Google (as you do),

And I read that he was sickly as a child and spent his time

In his bedroom, with the four walls as a view.

He didn't go to school and so he had a narrow life,

With a member of his family as teacher.

Later, when he was painting, he recalled his childhood days

And the fire in the fireplace was a feature.

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My own bedroom wasn't this grand.

And, suddenly all in a rush, I remembered my own youth,

Spent in another time, another place,

And I recalled a bedroom and a lovely cosy bed

With a fire crackling in the fire-place.

It must have been a novelty; I recall it as a treat;

I think I was unwell, confined to bed.

Did I have the measles? Or did I have the mumps?

Or was it, maybe, the chicken-pox instead?

All I know is I lay in bed, cosy as I could be,

All through the day and on into the night,

And the fire in the fireplace crackled and then flared

And, as daylight went, the fire grew more bright.

My light turned off, I lay in bed gazing up at the ceiling,

Where firelight patterns flickered, dancing gold,

And I found it quite entrancing, it was 'just like fairyland',

Reminding me of stories I'd been told.

I don't remember sickness, only comfort and delight,

With the blankets pulled right up to reach my nose,

And my eyes upon the dancing shapes performing just for me,

And warmth that reached right down into my toes.

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Thank you Mr Wyeth, and thank you Google too!

That memory was buried very deep.

Such memories sustain us and it's good when they're recalled.

Flames and crackling and patterns...........and then sleep.

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PLEASURE!

(Written a couple of years ago!)

It gave them so much pleasure

Discovering Sub-Prime!

The Bankers bloomed and blossomed

With ecstasy at the time.

They borrowed, lent and borrowed,

And the web spread far and wide.

Everyone could own a home!

Nobody was denied!

Oh the pleasure of the dealings!

The rubbing of the hands!

The syphoning of money

From other distant lands!

Then, one borrower defaulted!

The scheme had a nasty smell!

Then another and another!

Like dominoes they fell!

Does it give the bankers pleasure now,

To see their land laid low;

To see the assets dwindling

Where once they used to grow!

'Pride comes before a fall' they say.

And 'Look before you leap!'

Too late for little sayings!

The whole thing's gone too deep.

And all of us were guilty

Very guilty indeed;

What we mistook for pleasure

Was simply boundless greed.

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