Vive La ?

CARRY ON TUESDAY

 The words in blue are the opening lines of the 1949 movie 'Adam's Rib'.

VIVE LA ?

I admit I'm part of the problem, so who is there to blame?

The world is becoming 'sameish', with everything the same.

It's been happening forever, but, in my time, it's gained pace,

And now a place that was unique is just every other place.

It happened with the Romans, when they madly 'Romanised'.

Their influence on Britain still cannot be disguised.

It happened with 'The Empire' when Britain ruled the waves,

Resulting in the cricket for which every Indian craves.

I've lived in different countries, adding a 'Pommie' touch,

Even though the natives didn't like it very much.

So this isn't an accusation; just a sigh for times gone past,

And a geriatric whimper for a mix that's come too fast.

I lived in the South of England, only twenty miles from France,

And I longed to see that country. In my teens I got my chance.

As I stepped down from the ferry the Frenchness blew my mind!

Everything was different! Smells of a different kind!

Buildings looked exotic! Chatter sort of sang!

That wine, that sky, that elegance! That other-worldly tang!

It wasn't a case of better. It wasn't a case of worse.

It was just that everything I saw was England in reverse.

Now if I take the ferry across that narrow sea,

I'm faced with Marks and Spencers, MacDonalds and KFC.

Everyone speaks English, eats sushi, or ragout,

Everything's pseudo-foreign; you must agree that's true.

Oh the monuments are national, but they are in the past,

They're just an ancient backdrop for an up-and-coming cast.

So when I see the photograph of all the different races

Who've walked the Bridge, having arrived from hundreds of other places.

I feel no animosity, for I'm an immigrant too,

But I kind of yearn for times gone by when  the world was still quite new

And a trip to a foreign country, like my early one to France,

Was enough to make one shout out loud 'Vive la difference!'

*

(The climbers on the bridge represent the nationals who have made Australia their home.)

214. Ouch!

                                       SEURAT

A response to the SIMPLY SNICKERS prompt.

My response to the SUNDAY SCRIBBLINGS prompt is number 216.

OUCH!

They glide and glimmer with golden grace

(That's put the buzz words in their place!)

Also 'in place' those gorgeous bustles!

Underneath the silk that rustles 

In colourful swathes of red or beige

There's a horrible sort of metal cage

That keeps their rear-ends nicely rounded

And causes us to be dumbfounded.

Imagine! When one longs to settle

On a seat, a piece of metal

Pierces one's dainty derriere

And causes one to wince and swear!

But did they swear in those long-lost days?

Did they even know  any fruity phrase?

Or did they merely smile sedately,

Still so ladylike, sweet and stately?

I bet they carried on a treat

When at last their outing was complete.

And when they reached some private place

They actually let themselves grimace!

When they'd stripped-off camisoles,

Corseting and folderoles;

When the flesh was on display

In a quite abandoned way,

Surely they had to scratch like mad!

And think of all the scars they had!

Folds and creases, fiery marks

One doesn't associate with parks.

In the park they looked so neat,

Straight-backed, elegant, and sweet.

Yet underneath chaos was reigning!

And not one lady was complaining!

And what of those gentleman that we see

Parading their masculinity?

When female bodies were revealed

And nothing any more concealed,

Did they say 'Alas! Alack!

I thought you had more at the back!'

(On a much more serious note turn to my PLUS blog for a telling cartoon.)

213.Off-Course Of Course!

Lynda of http://portlandoregondailyphoto.blogspot.com/ gave me permission to use this photograph for a poem. It is one of a series of about six that chronicle a street scene in Portland. Let's hope the poodle found a tree quite soon!

OFF-COURSE OF COURSE!

Percy the Poodle was crossing the street,

Attached, of course, to a lead.
'Thought Percy 'Goody! There's a tree!

 Exactly what I need!

I'm bursting to cock my back leg

And that tree will be just great!
And, while I'm about it, I'll have a sniff!

 It might lead me to a mate!'
But what is this? His mistress has veered

Way off towards the right!
Did you see a poodle with his legs crossed?

 That was Percy....Right?

Number One

                                    By Kat

I have just discovered that my BLEND (Blog Friend) Kat has painted one picture in his life. This was it.

I think he should continue to paint, don't you?

The news from India, Kat's homeland, is very worrying today. So this is a little sort of get-well token.

NUMBER ONE!

(The first of many.)

To one who painted one,

From one who's not painted any!

Keep  at it, my dear Kat.

Let us see many, many!

When the world is looking grim,

We need a painter's eye

To point out all the lovely things

That may have passed us by.

Opposite Attraction

OPPOSITES ATTRACT
ARIES with TAURUS



Like oil and water this is not the simplest sort of mix!
'Home-body' meets 'High-Flyer'! A tricky one to fix.

There's Aries, dressed-up to the nines, longing to hit the town,

And Taurus saying ' Let's relax.' and 'Why don't you calm down?'

Taurus can be a solid mate, rather dull but stable,

And always with a  weather-eye beamed on the dinner-table.

Taurus is a manager; Aries likes to spend;

But maybe they can compromise and do well in the end.

Taurus can be possessive, which can cramp an Aries' style,

But Aries may like to be 'possessed', sometimes, for a while.

In bed they'll both be really great, but, sadly, in the morning

Aries may still find Taurus dull. That's when Aries will start yawning!

Aries enjoys a conversation, problems must be aired,

While Taurus can be so laid-back the soul is never bared.

This frustrates poor Aries, who often may explode,

And even, when things get extreme, Aries may hit the road!

But, if they hang-on long enough, Aries will come to see

That Taurus can be a steady sign to have in a family-tree.

The home will become a haven, not just a some 'gilded cage',

And this is a couple who may grow close.

Like wine, they'll improve with age!
*

211. Sasparilla

SASPARILLA!

Sasparilla's been a word that's always fascinated!

Although I hear that, now, the concept's really rather dated.
*

Growing up in England, I heard this Yanky word,

And I thought it was the most romantic name I'd ever heard!

I was drinking lemon juice or something else quite boring,

While, over in America, the populace was pouring

This wildly stimulating drink down each and every throat!

Oh how I longed to pack my bags and get on the next boat!
*

The very word rolls off the tongue in a manner so exotic!

Surely it held ingredients quite dangerously hypnotic!

Picture a grey mid-winter's day in  a little British town

There's 'Rinkly' thinking of the drink, longing to gulp it down;

To be whisked away to join the Sasparilla devotees,

Lounging in gay abandon underneath strange foreign trees!
*

With President Roosevelt looking manly standing at the tiller

Easing his tension with a handy glass of Sasparilla!
With a young girl on a skyscraper wrestling a gorilla,
And winning easily every time she sipped some Sasparilla!
With Raymond Chandler writing books, possibly a thriller,
Getting inspiration from a glass of Sasparilla!
With Al Capone, a Mafia lad, but an efficient killer,
Demanding his favourite sustenance, gin and Sasparilla!
*
What an exciting life they led on the other side of the ocean!
Merely thinking of it now fills me with deep emotion!

Please write and tell me (making sure,of course, that it's the truth!)

How Sasparilla brought a reckless element to your youth!
*

210. Mud Bath

The Bath area of the West of England is noted for its healing springs. This legend celebrates its founder.




MUD BATH!

In the dimness of antiquity, there lived a handsome Prince,

Whose name has been revered and praised by all men, ever since.

Bladud was the young man's name; he knew his destiny

Was to rule his nation; to this end he studied constantly.

In search of learning he went forth and finally came to Greece,

Where he hoped to learn the ways of truth and dignity and peace.

But, sad to say, in Athens, he contracted leprosy

And a sad, disfigured Prince returned to face his family.

'You cannot rule' his father said 'You'd bring our family shame!

Flee somewhere far away, my son! Don't besmirch our regal name!'

His mother wept at her poor son's plight, and handed him a ring.

'Keep this safe as a gift from me while you are wandering.'

So the sad Prince left as a peasant, with neither hearth nor home,

Disfigured by his leprosy and destined the earth to roam.

'I must work to live' said Bladud  'Since no royal crown is mine.

I'll live as so many peasants do, herding the humble swine.'

So, for many years, he herded pigs across the countryside

Until, at last, they sickened too and many of them died.

He must have been a sorry sight, his remaining pigs were few,

And he was covered in lesions! What was a man to do?

But suddenly a pig went wild and galloped off until

It came to a pond of thick black mud, at the bottom of the hill.

It jumped right in and almost sank; it was in it to the snout!

So Bladud clambered in as well. He must get the creature out!

The rescue took a while, of course, as the animal thrashed and squealed,

But when it staggered to the bank, its leprosy was healed!

So Bladud wallowed in the mud, constantly, day by day,

Till his leprosy finally disappeared in a miraculous way.

Then back to his parents he returned, an older man, it's true,

But he showed his mother's golden ring, so everybody knew

That he was the rightful future king. And he quickly made it known

That his saviour had been a humble pig, one animal, on its own.

So Bladud founded a city, where healing waters run,

And he ruled in Bath for twenty years as his father's rightful son.

He governed with honesty and wit; his edicts all were sound

But he never forgot the lowly pig who'd turned his fortunes round.