Water Bird

SHADOW SHOT SUNDAY

http://shadowshotsunday2.blogspot.com.au/

WATER BIRD

Only I, yes, only I

Am at home in water, land and sky.

Sated with fish I take my ease,

Drying my wings in the summer breeze.

Human beings cannot soar,

Fish don't know what land is for,

The little sparrow is not free

To dip and plunge in the raging sea.

I'm a multi-purpose creature

And a charming shadow is a feature.

See me pose and see me preen,

Adding to the watery scene.

*

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We were asked to use all the words in blue.

FEMOLUTION!

Women are no longer just birdlike and quivering.

Cowed by glances from the males, abject, pale and shivering.

They are Boadiceas, hordes of them descending,

With studded shields and helmets, the line comes, never-ending.

Not for them the plate-rack! No need for them to crawl!

You'll see them up there at the bar, maybe having a brawl!

Sometimes there's a little hitch, sometimes they goof a bit,

But anywhere a female blooms she's going to be a hit!

*

*Pity about the bra!

All Is Vanity

SHADOW SHOT

ALL IS VANITY

An old brown fence is a mirror for a rather vain little tree.

It gazes with joy at its shadow and says 'Wow! Look at me!'

As it sways in the breeze it follows the movements as they're portrayed

Utterly distracted by the magic of light and shade.

'I'm so solid!' the tree announces, 'Look! I cut-out the sun!

I guess I'll dance for ever! Aren't I the lucky one!'

But, next day, it sees there are spaces; the day after there are more.

That's how it learns of mortality.
 It finally knows the score.

*

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SOLITUDE

To be alone is not, of course, to be lonely.

Solitude is a loneliness with charm.

Be in a place where one is the one and only,

And experience a sort of egotistical balm.

In my little room I find the pleasures of solitude;

Though in crowds I often feel all alone,

In my little room 'alone' is a sweet beatitude;

And true loneliness I have never known.

But imagination allows me to think and empathise

With the truly lonely who walk this world with me.

I can will myself into their minds and then I can fantasise

About how sorrowful loneliness must be.

To long for another and never see their face again

Is true loneliness that nothing can assuage.

It's like searching forever and never finding a trace again

It's like reading a book with nothing on every page.

*-------------------------

The Non-Existent Cat

SHADOW SHOT

THE NON-EXISTENT CAT!

Do you see a shadow-cat

Sitting in the tree?

I promise you it wasn't there!

It's a mirage! Trust me!

*

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GENERATION GAP!

I am sure Maxine, like many old dears

Has to cover up her ancient ears

When she hears the really terrible noise

Called 'music' by young girls and boys!

Does she cower down inside her room

As their cars drive by with their 'Boom boom boom'?

Every 'song' sounds just the same

To the ears of this so past-it dame!

*

As for tattoos, they're quite obscene!

And yet the 'wearers' seem to preen!

They seem quite proud of the inky scrawls

That are like graffiti on city walls!

Even a rosebud on a shoulder

Is going to look strange when a girl grows older.

Then there's the all-over sort.....

I cannot think of a retort

To express my positive dismay!

I simply turn my head away.

*

True, when the time comes for confessions,

I admit to youthful indiscretions

But mine have died the death discretely;

Now they've disappeared completely!

Tattoos are something made to last!

They'll still be there as time goes past!

Imagine the ink in all the crinkles!

Tattoos overlaid with wrinkles!

As for the hearing! All that din

From songs about sex and lust and sin

Will have brought on deafness with the years.

As mother said 'It will end in tears.'

Oh well! As the Bible says 'So be it!'

At least I wont be around to see it!

*
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PS

It's Tulip Time in the Eastern Highlands, so we joined the devotees and journeyed there yesterday. The journey was long , but the coach was extremely comfortable and I had the pleasure of Bev's company most of the way. Here she is on our arrival.

The climate in the area is very un-Australian and our day was made even more 'English' by drizzle and chilly winds. The greyness was not good for photography but it was very atmospheric and we were all quite happy with it. We all oohed and aahed over exotic flowers such as bluebells, tulips, daffodils and forgetmenots!

Bev took this when we first arrived.

We visited some lovely old homesteads with beautifully manicured gardens, which were, even so, quite woodlandy. 

The bluebells were a nice surprise. They were in clumps everywhere.

Everything was very misty-moisty and lush. 

The gardens were lovely. Here I am wrestling with a bag, a wrap and a camera case, with the drizzle threatening any minute.

One could have imagined one was in an English Park.

The weather made us quite homesick for the UK. Here's Malcolm under his brolly. 

The parrots prevented the complete Anglification.

Even in the town there was a profusion of flowers. This wisteria was lovely outside a shopping centre. (But that also grows on the coast.)

All in all a great excursion, marred by the lunch arrangements. We went to a Club which was catering for multiple tulip-watching coaches and it was rather a bun-fight!

In the Shade

SHADOW SHOT SUNDAY

http://heyharriet.blogspot.com/2011/03/shadow-shot-sunday-146.html

IN THE SHADE

And did I prance in those wild, wild waves?

And did I have a glorious tan?

And did I wear a bikini

Hoping to attract a man?

Did I throw a beach-ball

And drink pink lemonade?

When did Time say 'Rest yourself.

Find a seat in the shade'?

*

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 THE GREEN GLOVES

They passed so quickly, those lovely days

Between babyhood and childhood.

When communication consisted of

A smile,

A roguish look,

A laugh,

A cuddle.

When a mower was a 'mowoh'

And a whipper-snipper

Was a circular motion of the hands!

When triumph was expressed by raising

The Green Gloves.
And a comical thumbs-up!

The obsession with garden-tools passed.

But, with it, passed

Those lovely days.

*

Hard on the Eyes!

SHADOW SHOT SUNDAY
http://heyharriet.blogspot.com/

HARD ON THE EYES!

It should be so relaxing

Gazing up at the sky;

Nothing really taxing,

And so easy on the eye.

But I'm beneath a pergola,

Of a plain criss-cross design,

And my brain is quite insistent

That things should be in line.

One way straight, one way across;

It's hardly rocket science.

But my brain rejects the diagonals,

There's simply no compliance.

Instead of a peaceful afternoon,

I'm squinting the day away.

I think I'll go indoors and rest....

Give my eyes a holiday!

*

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ROSLYN RESERVE

It lies between the houses like a little secret place;

Almost like a grotto, in a way.

Like a little piece of summer that was somehow left behind,

For us to find on a chilly winter's day.

It isn't quite a park; there are no roundabouts, no swings,

In fact there aren't amenities at all!

Not even paths to walk along, though shadows fleck the grass,

Thrown down by gum-trees standing straight and tall.

And it's there we took my grandson to run between the trees,

Chasing the dog and playing in the sun.

It felt like a private Paradise, designed for just we three,

So near and yet so far from everyone.

*

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PS

Quite a busy week but few photographs. I enjoyed the second staging of 'Tiddly Pom' even more than the first, because it was cooler! And then I had a very successful poetry gig which Mike attended. He was the only person in the whole room of about a hundred people that had enjoyed the previous week's heatwave. Everyone else groaned at the very thought!

Because of the heatwave I haven't been out with Mike as much as I usually do when he's out here from the UK, but we had a very Australian outing yesterday morning. Malcolm had gone off to his bowls game and Mike and I went down to Newcastle Baths. We rarely go there ourselves as Merewether Baths are so near where we live, so I was surprised at how pleasant the whole area was.

This is Mike photographed with the Art Deco baths in the background. We were surprised to discover that only the facade has been preserved from its glory days!

I preferred to be snapped with the background of the surf and rocks.

Here you see the constant background of yachts and coal-ships.

And here is Mike proving he was there!

If you enlarged this shot and peered  just to the right of the steps you might see the little dot which is my white hat. I was chatting to two Swedes at the time. They return on Sunday to the Swedish snow!

*

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!

   *

Playmate

SHADOW SHOT
http://heyharriet.blogspot.com/

PLAYMATE

A shadow on the playroom floor;

I wonder what it came there for.

Stretching lazily as if to say

'Look at me! I'm here to play'.

Use me as a road for cars;

Ramps for rockets bound for Mars!

Tell me I'm a track for trains;
Or a runway for your planes.
I'm here! I'm here! Look at me! I'm great!
Play with me! I can hardly wait!'
But then some clouds rubbed the shadow out!
Oh well, they'll just do without!
*
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 NOT-SO-SMALL-TALK

Many men would like to say

That they don't small-talk the female way.

They say we gossip at this and that,

Talk inanity, having a chat.

Whereas,(this is their view), being men

They only discuss things now and again,

And, when they do, they cover ground

Which is always vital and profound.

Politics, they say's a must

So they go at it with stab and thrust.

Sport's another important item;

They chunter-on ad infinitum.

Sex is a topic that get's an airing;

Experience-swapping gets quite daring!

So there you have it, one, two, three,

The sum of men's verbosity.

Whereas we ladies, so I've heard tell,

Discuss a lot and do it well.

Gather together a female group,

Over a lunch of home-made soup,

And the conversation will surge and eddy,

Sometimes dazzling, sometimes steady,

Covering things of depth and meaning,

While, all the while, each one is gleaning

Good advice and information,

With sensitive anticipation.

World affairs, the price of cheese,

What to do should baby sneeze,

The latest title to be read,

How to make lovely home-made bread,

How to cover an antique stool,

How to help Johnny with work from school;

What we think of that young Obama;

How to make a suit of armour....

Well, maybe not that final one,

But the topic does sound rather fun!

On and on in a seamless way

We ladies small-talk our time away.

But scientists at last have found

That girl-talk makes the world go round!

*

Curiouser and Curiouser!

SHADOW SHOT 

CURIOUSER AND CURIOUSER!

How very odd, a household blind erected in a yard!

I'd suggest you made a guess at it but it would be rather hard!

When one's married to Mr Fixit, anything can appear!

So I'll tell the little story about this oddment here!

*

Once we had a jasmine hedge; it was high and wide and pretty.

But the fence was falling to pieces and that was such a pity!

So we had the fence removed and when that enormous job was done,

We found that our little courtyard was more open to the sun.

The first time we  had coffee I said to M. 'Oh heck!

The sun is really burning the left side of my neck!'

So what appears in a day or two but a dinky little blind,

Cut down from a larger one! Don't you think that was kind!

When the weather's cloudy it is tucked-up out of sight,

But oh what a boon it is to me when the sun's too hot and bright!

*

And see! An added bonus is a tracery from the tree!

It makes a delicate pattern of the finest filigree!

And here is Malcolm sitting, looking rather smug,

Chewing on a biscuit and with his coffee mug!

*

 And when the children visited, we found we had a screen

For little hands to fashion a shadow-puppet scene!

All that from one old sunburnt neck! It's a rather lovely freak!

And I'm inclined to think that it may even be unique!

*

*

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CASCADES

It looks rather staged and unlikely, a postcardy kind of a shot,

But I was the one with camera and I know it was certainly not!

Australian waterfalls never could be likened to those of renown,

There's no 'smoke-that-thunders' about them, as they pose for a shot and fall down.

But the falls of the Atherton area, have a picture-book tropical air,

And the palm trees that gather about them are green all the year, never bare.

There's Mena and then there's Mungalli  and then just a short way away

We come to this one, Millaa Millaa,  which seems to demand we should stay.

Australia's noted for desert, Australia's noted for beach,

But it also is noted for cascades.

So why don't you try some of each?

* 

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PS

This week Australia celebrates Australia Day and our Probus Club gave the occasion a nod at morning tea. 

Afterwards, the Choir entertained. I love this photo! Pam is doing such a great job of organising us, and hardly anyone is taking any notice of her! This is typical! I'm a case in point.....gazing off into the distance with a bemused expression on my face! Yet the resulting concert was really very good!

*

Shady Corner

SHADOW SHOT SUNDAY
http://heyharriet.blogspot.com/

SHADY CORNER

My son has a house full of quirk,

Unexpected, yet all seems to work.

Doors lead where we never expect,

And nothing is straight-line direct.

Interleadings surprise at each turn

And the layout is tricky to learn!

A bedroom's beyond this glassed door,

Yet we stand on the sunroom's paved floor!

One step, and, should Greg have the urge,

He can wake, and, still yawning, emerge

To enjoy the first rays of the sun

And drink coffee! The day has begun!

Except he has two little boys

Who wake-up with a great deal of noise

And make a considerable mark

On his life while, as yet, it is dark!

Still, in time, they'll be teenagers! Then,

In no time at all, they'll be men.

When life is no longer so taxing,

He'll emerge and enjoy his relaxing.

*

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ON-LINE 1930

It's a glamorous job, no doubt,

Using all this modern technology.

And females do it! My word!

It goes against their biology!

They speak in dulcet tones;

Their plugs are deftly wielded;

And awkward questions at times,

Are equally deftly fielded.

Not a hair is out of place,

And no-one thinks of chatting.

It's better than sitting at home,

Learning to cook, or tatting.

They feel the commercial world

Is there at their finger-tips.

But, darlings, can't you see,

It's not doing a thing for your hips!

*

Dawn Flush

SHADOW SHOT
http://heyharriet.blogspot.com/2010/12/shadow-shot-sunday-134.html


DAWN FLUSH

Outside the curtained window dawn flushes pink.

The fan turns slowly.

I luxuriate in the cool of the day.

*

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TROJAN HORSE!

Trojan Horses nowadays are simply just a feature

Of internet complexity, not a gigantic creature

Like this great horse that we see here, which certainly is no toy!

Yet I have to admit there never was a flesh-and-blood horse of Troy.

*
Paris of Troy stole Helen from Menelaus, the Spartan King,

Who then waged war to get her back, for she was a lovely thing.

For ten years Menelaus sought to pillage and destroy

The mighty city where Paris lived, which we now know as Troy.

*
At last he seemed to lose the will to fight to the bitter end,

The Trojans were too successful in their efforts to defend.

The attacking army then withdrew, for they were a true spent force,

But they left behind an edifice in the shape of a mighty horse.

*
This horse was sacred to Trojans, for it was made from the cornel tree,

So the horse Menelaus left behind was a wonder for all to see. 

And he left an inscription which clearly said 'With this horse we now give thanks'

And then the army retreated, officers and all ranks.

*
The Trojans were delighted that the War had now been won,

They had seen the Spartans wilting, they had seen the Spartans run.

Now here was a mighty offering which they could all enjoy.

So they dragged and pulled the Trojan Horse inside the gates of Troy.

*
But the horse was full of soldiers! This the Trojans didn't know,

Though they found it very heavy and their progress very slow.

At last they had it safely inside the city walls,

And it is now Menelaus wins and the Trojan's city falls!

*
For the soldiers leapt out of the Trojan Horse, and the army then returned,

And the city of Troy was pillaged and ruined and wrecked and burned.

*
So next time you find a Trojan Horse has infiltrated your disk,

Remember, if you let it in you were taking quite a rlsk!

*

The Geometry of Chance

THE GEOMETRY OF CHANCE

Waiting outside the Bank!

A humdrum occupation!

Idly casting glances

As one does in this situation.

Looking up I saw some curves,

And I noted, with elation,

A shadow and a stairwell

In a perfect configuration.

*

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(Come to think about it, nowadays, cicadas are safe because the children never think to put them in matchboxes They are too busy with their Play Stations to bother about cicadas, anyway. Is this conservation?)

CHERRY NOSE
(From a little play written about cicada Circus performers.)

I was born with a proboscis.
That's a clever sort of word
Which merely means my nose is large
And really quite absurd.
Not only do I have a conk,
But the conk's a brilliant red!
I sometimes feel I've got a nose
That's bigger than my head!
One day the people laughed at me
When I went into town.
'That's it!' I thought, ''I make them laugh!
So I'll have to be a clown!
I'll make my nose an asset
And join a circus troupe.
I'll fool around and have some fun
In a travelling circus group.
I'll learn to love my poor old nose
If it can bring me fame!
Rudolph the Red Nosed Insect!
That will be my name!'
*

Symmetree

SHADOW SHOT

SYMMETREE

You wouldn't think a simple tree

Would have a desire for symmetry!

When the sun is positioned right

And it's bold and big and bright

I like to pose like a Grecian Urn

So people passing by will turn

And say 'Look at that lovely tree!

Isn't it a novelty!

With it's patterned trunk and it's shade spread out

It's a work of art without a doubt!'

*

(But there's a fact I just can't hide;

I'll have to work on that left-hand side!)

*
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WHAT A RAQUET!

On the tennis court,
If skirts were short,
The moral-police would say
'Please stop the game!
It is a shame
For ladies to dress that way!'

Though lengthy skirts
And long-sleeved shirts
Impeded the flight of the ball,
Girls had to dress
Well, more or less,
Like ladies coming-to-call!

The men could stride
And leap and glide
With freedom, as they played,
But the ladies' wrath,
In those yards of cloth,
Made everyone dismayed.

Now freedom reigns!
They broke their chains!
And that's how it should be.
On the tennis court
And in every sport
A female should be free!

*

On Display

SHADOW SHOT
http://heyharriet.blogspot.com/

ON DISPLAY

In a dusty case in a small museum these clothes pegs were on show.
Lit from above with a little lamp so the whole scene seemed to glow.
They were displayed as artifacts over time collected.
Cast aside, no doubt, back then, though now they were resurrected.
And it struck me that this was their stage, with the footlights at their feet.
With the little blue ballerinas looking rather sweet
As they dipped and bowed and circled in time to a melody
With all their little tutus flaring so prettily.
While beside them marched the soldiers, with their military might,
And all their colourful uniforms looking crisp and bright.
Their shadows, too, looked theatrical, as they echoed the dancers' legs!
I found myself almost believing they were more than humdrum pegs!
*


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(Our house lay in the very centre of this shot.)

ALTON MEMORIES

War having ended, my Father decided
That, since he could not be a Preacher,
He'd find a Church School, a small village school,
Where he could become the Head Teacher.
My Mother, from Kent, was not at all pleased,
But, really, she hadn't much say ,
And so we all moved, to our new village home,
Knowing that was the place we would stay.
My Mother was never entirely at ease;
She yearned all her days to see Kent,
Though the village we'd come to was charming, indeed,
And she learned to be almost content.
As for me, I was rather an unthinking soul;
I accepted that this was my fate.
I grew up as a village girl, living the life
And eventually finding it great.
For Alton was beautiful in its own way,
A Peak District sort of a place.
'Peak Practice' was shot in a nearby location
And Alton had that sort of grace.
I lived there for six years until I left home
So these scenes were a background for me.
And here are some shots of the place that I loved.
It's delightful.
I know you'll agree.
*

The village in the valley.

Alton Castle hung over the Churnet Valley.

The Churnet River flowed past our house.

This was the 1000 year old church where my Father was a Lay Preacher.

This was the pulpit from which my Father preached frequently.

Toot Hill (always called Tootle Rock) which I loved to climb.

The pub over the road.

The historic lock-up called The Round House.

The bridge adjacent to our house; I loved to inch my way along the parapet!

Lovely walks, even in Winter.

A recent newspaper photograph of a car accident in Alton. In the background, to the left, can be seen our little house, with the Castle above it.

*