Aftermath

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BLUE MONDAY

AFTERMATH

How quickly the excitement passed.

Now all is drab again.

With London approaching winter,

When it will, most likely, rain.

I remember when it was Sydney

And we were on a high.

How soon it slipped into the past,

Into the 'days gone by'.

This picture captured the magic

A pink moon in a sky of blue,

When London was showing the Universe

All the things that it could do.

'The dust cart follows the Lord Mayor's Show'

My mother used to say.

'To travel is better than arriving'...

Be that as it may.

We live on anticipation,

We feed on memory,

And in between there's a moment

Of breathless history.
*
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Mad Kane gave us the first line.

JUST WAIT!

A woman who just let it slip

That she didn't give waiters a tip,

Got a hot coffee (large)

Down her decolletage

And was crowned by a great big egg-flip!

*
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Reality

                     Margaret Gosden

SKYWATCH

http://skyley.blogspot.com.au/

REALITY

Some lunar photos that we see

Really defy reality.

They show the moon filling-up the sky,

A great monstrosity way up high,

Beautiful but quite unreal,

With no veracity appeal.

The moon takes up such little space;

It's often hard to see the 'face'.

The vastness of the universe

Makes the moon look the reverse......

A tiny circle of glorious white

In the black enormous night.

But, here, it is perfect and serene,

The little lamp we all have seen,

With the sky, still blue, and clouds surrounding,

Small, but delicious and astounding.

*

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DEPRIVED CHILDHOOD!

I never had a Shirley Temple Doll!

That's why I'm such a crazy mixed-up pensioner!

Shirley Temple was the icon to extol.

I still go weak if anyone should mention her!

For she was such a perfect little girl,

With her dimples and her pretty curly hair!

She could tap-dance, she could curtsy, she could twirl!

All in all I felt that life was hardly fair!

But if I had had a Shirley Temple toy,

Some of the magic might have come my way.

And so I tried out every female ploy

Nagging my parents each and every day!

'All the other little girls I know have one! It's true!

I'm the only one without one that's for sure!

If I don't get one I don't know what I'll do!'

On and on I'd go with many an encore!

*

So my Mother bought a 'Shirley Temple' dress!

It said it on the label at the store.

So, in a way, I had a small success.

Though it never really evened up the score.

My life has been deprived, as you can see,

And I very nearly turned to alcohol!

Are there any others out there just like me

Who were denied a Shirley Temple Doll?

Here is THE dress!

(My small success!) 

*

Myopia

MYOPIA
( I wasn't THAT grateful! I had a cataract operation shortly after I wrote this!)

I stand on the balcony at night;
A moonlit night of a billion stars.

All things are crisp, outlined,
Solid and picturesque, neat and orderly;
Everything in its appointed place.
Houses, trees, pathways and the horizon beyond
Cut out in cardboard.
I am entranced.
Such beauty!

Suddenly a moth invades my hair!
I flurry my hand across my face!
My glasses fly off the balcony, to be lost in shrubs below!
I am, for a second, bewildered, disoriented,
Enmeshed in white light.
I cannot see!
Then, magically, I see!

My eyes become accustomed to glory.
I am a swimmer
Swimming through pale swathes of liquid luminosity.
Each star is a huge white chrysanthemum.
The multitudes fudge and fuzz and seem to fuse.

Below me, pale green billows
Disappear into the mist, dancing.
My eyes widen; my fingers splay with longing.
I feel bleached, like a skull.
Tendrils of hair are silvered against the immensity of sky,
So close that I can see them clearly.

I am drawn up
Toward the puff ball cloudiness of a new moon,
That is, indeed, a brand new moon,
One never seen before by these eyes.
Limpid lispings of light spiral down to me.
The light is like white wine, spilling over my face;
Sweet, exotic, tasting of starlight.

And I say a heathen prayer of gratitude
To that obscure goddess, Myopia.
She of the semi-sight has given me a vision.
*