Pretending

ABC WEDNESDAY


Letter 'P'


PRETENDING

See the mighty river flowing past the mountain peaks,

Flowing to the ocean which each mighty river seeks!

See the craggy mountains and the caverns way below!

From up here in the aircraft we can see the river's flow!

We're much too high to see the river traffic floating past!

Surely there I spy a swimmer! And, maybe there, a mast!

The river's flowing strongly till it meets the open sea

Where it will merge with other rivers, wild and rough and free!

*

Sorry to disappoint you! This is just a little stream!

Sometimes, with photography things aren't quite what they seem!

This is just the overflow from my local swimming pool,

Running back into the sea, salty, fresh and cool.

With one step I'd get across it! It's so shallow I could stride,

Barely up to my ankles, across to the other side!

Sometimes, even on our own., playing games is fun;

'Let's Pretend' for adults! Good for everyone!

*

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ONCE UPON A TIME!

"What an example of modernity!

Surely it will last for eternity!"

That's what we said when this TV

Displayed itself to you and me!

"What lines!" we said,."What thrilling dials".

Our faces creased in delighted smiles!

The little picture in black and white,

Flickered away, now dark, now light.

We viewed it feeling quite ecstatic;

It's influence was so dramatic!

"Surely this won't be surpassed!

This invention must be the last!"

We prided ourselves on belonging to

The generation making such a coup!

But look at it now. The word is 'quaint';

Up-to-date is what it ain't.

What are we thrilling to today?

What new gadgets have come our way?

And how decrepit will they appear

Even as early as this time next year?

As to ten years down the track!

All our 'stuff' will have got the sack!

Museum pieces they will be

Along with you, and along with me!

*

Continuum

                     Brenda Bryant

OUR WORLD

http://ourworldtuesdaymeme.blogspot.com.au/

CONTINUUM

Far from the blistering desert

With its orange soil on show,

By a river in Tasmania

See this Autumn foliage grow.

Here the air is misty,

The vegetation green,

Dusty devastation

Is very rarely seen.

And yet the colour matches

The desert's coppery tone

As though the desert's palette

Had been welcomed as its own.

*

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WASTED EFFORT

He'd told those really whopping lies,

Got himself a great disguise,

Forged a passport, all that stuff.

But still, it seemed it was not enough!

He need not have bothered, sad to say!

No-one even glanced his way!

*

Storms

STORMS
(An Acrostic)

Sullen clouds build up and up into a mighty tower;

Thunder echoes distantly, rumbling its power.

Overhead the blueness falters, weakening on high.

Rain, in great fat globules, drops out of the sky.

Mighty slashes of lightning rend the heated air.

Storms have a way of telling us that Thor is still up there.
*
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        Florence Edith Storer

WHERE WIND?

(A poem for Children)

The wind is always blowing and blowing,

When it is rainy and when it is snowing,

It's always to-ing and always fro-ing

But where is it going? Where is it going?

*

Where does it end as it goes on its way,

Over the mountains and over the bay,

The wind has a voice but I don't hear it say

'I'm going to so-and-so country today.'

*

It comes to the trees and goes over the top,

Over the houses and over the shop,

And some people say that the wind likes to 'drop'

But where does it stop? Where does it stop?

*

Does the wind have a map we can't ever see?

Does the gnat know the answer, the bird and the bee?

Is the only one kept in the dark little me?

Where can it be? Where can it be?

*

There may be an answer, but I won't be knowing,

Where the wind's ebbing and where the wind's flowing.

It's dancing, it's breezing, it's speeding, it's slowing,

But where is it going? Where is it going?

*

The Princess

POETRY PICNIC

http://gooseberrygoespoetic.blogspot.com.au/
suggests the topic 'Castles'

THE PRINCESS

(A true story)

Once I was a Princess, but that was long ago.

The Castle sat up on the hill; our house was down below.

The Churnet River ran between our house and high estate

But the influence it had on me was immeasurably great.

I would gaze from my bedroom window when the moon was riding high

And I'd see the romantic turrets etched black against the sky.

I became a romantic, a writer of poetry,

All because of a Castle floating in a starlit sea!

What a wonderful experience for a young girl in her teens.

I consider I was privileged to grow-up among such scenes.

*

Alton Castle was founded by Bertram de Verdon and built on a rocky precipice overlooking the River Churnet in the 12th century. It was substantially reconstructed during the 15th century and subsequently was damaged during the Civil War. In 1847 it was significantly reconstructed by the Catholic architect Augustus Pugin as a Gothic country house for the 16th Earl of Shrewsbury.The site was taken over by the Sisters of Mercy in 1855 and the presbytery became their convent. The castle remained a private residence until 1919 when the Sisters of Mercy bought it for £3,500 to extend their boarding school. The school closed in 1989 and the castle was left empty until in 1996. In 1996 it was established by the Archdiocese of Birmingham as a Catholic Youth Retreat Centre. 

*

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SORT OF SORTED

This subject may repel you, if you're not domesticated!

Six days a week housework's ignored; I absolutely hate it!

You could say I'm semi tidy, merely doing the things I must,

Happily ignoring things like untidy drawers and dust.

But, come Sunday, I am quite transformed into a hausfrau! Yes!

On Sundays I catch up with myself and accumulated mess.

I wake filled with a fervour that's almost heaven sent!

I never go to church but I am called-on to repent!

My Grandma used to say to me 'I love getting in a hum'

And I have taken-after her, as, also, did my Mum.

Energy throbs through me as I empty all the bins;

I feel I'm doing penance for all the past week's sins.

I sort the newspapers, do a wash, go round with a feather duster,

Clear the fridge and sweep the floors! What energy I muster!

You see, I am retired and so my weeks are full of fun.

 I socialise continually, so nothing else is done!

I manage to cook a meal at night, but admit that I'm half-hearted!

My husband gets the shortest shrift! It's a wonder we've not parted!

Above you see the kitchen, after it's been 'done';

Outside you see the seat that I then sat on in the sun.

My Sundays are not glamorous, or even vaguely naughty;

I'm at home while all mankind seems  party-mad or sporty.

But don't cry for me (Argentina), tomorrow is sure to come,

And I'll be so delighted I spent Sunday 'in a hum'.

*

Ajar

MAGPIE TALES

http://magpietales.blogspot.com.au/
chose the illustration!

AJAR! 

'The door's ajar!' she snapped at me!

In her normal hectoring tones.

Her voice was like a discord

Seeping right into my bones!

'Oh is it!' I quipped back at her,

'It looks like a door to me!'

'I suppose you think that's funny!'

She shouted 'Well, tee-hee!'

Of course I closed the errant door

For I always do her bidding,

But I'd reached the end of my tether

And I knew I wasn't kidding.

There, on the table stood a jar

And I began to muse

On where I'd really like to be;

The way of life I'd choose.

I'd like to soak in hot water

With a good crime book to read,

With glass walls all around me!

That's all that I would need.

The vision that I conjured up

Was so, well, darned seductive,

That my present life seemed untenable

And completely unproductive.

'This is a jar!' I shouted out!

'And I am sitting in it!'

*

A life of freedom lay ahead! 

And I was about to begin it!

*

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Which word would he prefer?

HARBINGER

'The robin is the harbinger of Spring!'

Great sentiment!

Great visual picture!

Awful word!

Use 'harbinger' for 

The looming threat,

The fear of the future,

The symbol striking terror to the soul.

But for Spring? No!

'The robin is herald of the Spring'.

'The robin is the forerunner of the Spring'

'The robin sets the stage for Spring.'

Harbinger is a hard word,

A strong word,

A black word.

Maybe my choices are crass and obvious,

But at least they are

Soft,

Welcoming,

Balmy.

Like Spring itself.

*

Common Sense Car

BLUE MONDAY

COMMON SENSE CAR

The roads today are chockablock

With vehicles, wall-to-wall.

Some are huge, some merely large

But few of them are small.

This wee Blue Beauty seems to me

To point the way ahead.

Most of us drive from A to B,

Rarely from A to Z.*

'If I ruled the world' (I wish I did!)

All cars would carry two!

Great big cars with one driver!

I say it will not do.

If we doubled the number of passengers,

Car numbers would be reduced.

Our roads would be dreams to drive on,

Unlike the ones to which we're used.

Then halve the size of the vehicles 

(See illustration above)......

The glorious space thus realised

Is what I'm thinking of.

Admittedly there are people

Who need to take up space,

Who need to drive long distances,

And, if that is the case,

Licences could be issued

To those needing dispensation. 

All others should be heavily fined

If they break my regulation.

Think of it! Half the traffic jams,

And freed-up parking spaces!

Think of the quality of the air!

Think of the smiling faces!

I am constantly amazed

That I've not been elected

To be the first Ruler of the Earth!

(Skulduggery is suspected.)

*
(Pronounced 'zed' by all reasonable human-beings!)

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BEETING THE LOT!

Beetroot! Beetroot! Thou art divine!

There is no better taste than thine!

Thy colour is so rich and rare;

A royal colour, I declare!

Thou liest rotund on my plate.

I cannot wait! I cannot wait!

Ah yes, but where's that hunk of cheese

To drive me into ecstasies?

They speak of truffles with bated breath!

The taste would bore me half to death!

But Beetroot, yes! Thou art divine!

There is no better taste than thine!

*

Hidden World

The Wordle

THE SUNDAY WHIRL

http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/

asks us to use the words in the wordle

HIDDEN WORLD

The great grey sea

Rolls endlessly

It's pewter sheen unfolding

Beneath the waves

Are hills and caves

And who knows what they're holding.

Not for our eyes,

A wide world lies,

One which we yearn to squander.

Through hill and valley,

Lane and alley,

The flocks and schools may wander.

This green world can,

Within its span,

Accommodate the features

Of sprats and whales

With waving tails

And a million other creatures.

We puny things

With lungs and wings,

Locked in a life diurnal....

The man, the swallow

Just cannot follow

The  intractable, eternal.

With beating heart

We feign the art

Of wallowing as they wallow

That otherness

We can only guess

And can never truly follow.

*

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HARD TIMES

This is a poster, one of three,

Issued at a time of adversity.

At the time of their printing the British Isles

Were only a matter of a few short miles

From devastation and despair.

Hitler was in France 'just over there',

And he was viewing the other side

Over the Channel, which was hardly wide!

From near where I lived I could view the sight

Of French headlights flashing in the night!

With many others I was sent

To safety far away from Kent.

Then Britain waited for the War

To reach the step of its own front door.

France had been conquored by 'the Hun'

And we knew we were the following one!

*

The posters lay ready to be displayed

And preparations were quickly made.

Then, quite surprisingly, it started......,

The Battle of Britain! The Lion-Hearted

Young men gave their lives on high,

Sweeping Hitler from the sky.

The War still had many years to go

Before we saw the last of the foe,

But the fear of invasion never returned,

And Hitler's plans had been truly spurned.

*

So this blue poster was never needed!

It's cheerful message never heeded!

The posters slowly moulded away,

And it seems that none are left today.

And yet I think it was rather fine!

A lovely crisp and clear design.

The repeated use of the little word 'your',

Would have made one feel one could cope with War.

It's a little piece of history

That could have worked, so it seems to me.

*