Fashion

The Wordle

(With apologies for the dark copy)

SUNDAY WHIRL
http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/


FASHION

The Fashion Gurus are at again,

Treating the 'average' with disdain,

Designing clothes with 'them' in mind,

Not those involved in the daily grind.

The models, with their cobalt eyes,

And bodies of a starvation size,

Are emerging in their cat-walk gowns,

With make-up thick as any clowns,

In print and pattern and polka-dot!

We 'the rest', are a dull old lot.

Contrast them so sleek and tall,

With the average shopper in the mall! 

They wont align themselves with us

As we find a seat on the local bus.

It's clear they wink behind our backs

As we waddle in our ill-fitting slacks!

Given the chance, I would vibrate

And slink and slither and gyrate,

For a year or two, till I'd made the grade

Or some young thing put me in the shade,

Then I'd let myself right off the hook

And just curl up with a juicy book.

I would retire from the stupid madness

Embracing normality with gladness.

I'd grow till I was size sixteen,

The size Nature said I should have been.

And then I'd grow placid, fat and steady.

Goodness! I think I'm there already!

*

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UNAWARE

'Poor thing!' we think. 'She should be free

When she is swimming in the sea!!

How awful for her dressed up so

In solemn black from head to toe!

She must be sitting feeling sad,

Or boiling over, getting mad!'

But no! She's absolutely thrilled,

With utter, crazy joy she's filled!

She doesn't see a long black stocking

As something soul-destroying, shocking.

She doesn't see that clinging skirt

As something that's designed to hurt.

She doesn't mind that her little feet

Are covered too, and so discrete.

She only knows her generation

Can feel a lovely new sensation.

Past women folk, as she well knows,

Had to wear their normal clothes,

Merely dipping a timid toe

In the water's ebb and flow;

Hitching up their heavy dresses.....

Petticoats showing were excesses!

So this girl is quite elated,

Sensual and liberated.

Bikinis she can't visualise

And so she doesn't fantasise

About bare limbs and golden tans

And the same freedom as a man's.

So do not fret because she's clad

In garments that would drive you mad!

Let's leave her revelling, youthful, free

In her little heaven of sand and sea.

*

Tanfastic!

MAD KANE

http://www.madkane.com/humor_blog/

gave us the first line of a limerick

TANFASTIC!

A guy with a very deep tan

Formulated a very mean plan;

He'd say 'All ladies dream

Of a chocolate ice-cream!

There's no doubt that I'm your sort of man!'

*

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WAKE-UP CALL!

On his death-bed Arthur lay, all still and white

And they doubted if he'd even last the night.

Neighbour, Family and Friend

Said 'Poor Arthur! It's the end!'

For his chances of recovery were slight.

Then he smelt a quite familar kitchen-smell!

It was something he remembered very well!

A cookie smell for sure!

It came wafting through the door!

A smell that all through life had rung a bell!

Arthur stirred himself and rose up in his bed;

'I must eat a final cookie!' Arthur said,

And he shuffled down the hall

Keeping steady by the wall,

Hanging on to life by just the merest thread!

In the kitchen, though his hand began to shake,

He decided which hot cookie he would take;

But his wife's voice rent the air.....

'Arthur Hudson! Don't you dare!

Don't you think of touching those! They're for the wake!'

*

Prevailing Wind

Merimbula. Australia. Brenda Bryant

SCENIC SUNDAY

http://scenicsunday.blogspot.com.au/

PREVAILING WIND

Gently blow the breezes,

All sun-warmed from the sea,

Scarcely fluttering a leaf,

In their  trajectory.

But breezes blowing day by day

By day by day by day,

Have a way of nudging trees

To grow a certain way.

Breezes may be gentle,

And wood quite hard and strong

But breezes sigh 'I know I'm right

And I know you are wrong.'

So is the voice of reason

Which learns how to persuade.

Gently, gently wins the day,

So who needs a tirade?

*

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WAITING

Waiting for the coffee; waiting for the cakes.

Waiting for the concert soon to start.

It takes place at the Opera House several times a year,

And it's partly gourmandising, partly art.

It's known as 'Tea and Symphony', a title I enjoy,

And the journey on the train is always fun.

Here we are just waiting, in the shadows, on the steps,

Lapping up the gentle Autumn sun.

*

Reciprocity

IMAGINARY GARDEN

http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com.au/

challenges us to write a

Florette

xxxxxxxa
xxxxxxxa
xxxxxxxb
xxxxxxxbxxxa

RECIPROCITY

When I am walking down the street

I smile at everyone I meet.

Sometimes they smile right back at me

And that is reciprocity, and rather sweet.

*

But sometimes, as I walk to town

My smile is answered with a frown

Or else a look that's really sour,

A look that one could call a glower! That gets me down.

*

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RAIN SONG

Today was damp and draggly;

The rain came mizzling down.

Not much colour anywhere;

Nature wore a frown.

And then a flock of lorikeets

Came swooping down to feed!

Red and green and yellow too!

A welcome sight indeed!

*

Victorian Tantrum

Note: I have started writing a diary about my present experiences with skin-cancer surgery. I know these accounts will not be suitable for Rinkly Rimes, but I also know shared-experience blogs can be very helpful. The diary can be found at http://breabry.blogspot.com.au/.
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GRANDMA'S GOULASH
http://grandmas-goulash.info/
asks for a VERY short story.

VICTORIAN TANTRUM

Little Miss  Maddy,

Has a paddy.

Won't play her new violin.

Throws it into the bin!

Mama shouts, in a lather,

 'You wait! I'lI tell father!'

(140 characters)

*

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ROAD TO NOWHERE 

We're all on a road to nowhere;

Step up and join the parade.

Get in line one behind the other

And do not be afraid.

What if the journey's pointless,

And ends in a hard brick wall?

What if that distant horizon

Isn't even there at all?

What if that sun in the heaven

Can never be made to shine?

What if we'll never find that place

Where the weather is always fine?

Set out on the journey

As though on a holiday.

You're sure to pick some flowers

That are growing by the way.

*

Elegance

THE WEEKEND IN BLACK AND WHITE

ELEGANCE

A little whiff of bygone days

When elegance ruled the waves

And a cruise was for the upper-crust

Not for the serfs and slaves!

A time of First and Second Class,

And cases made from leather,

When Lady Agnes and Mary Jones

Never ate their food together.

A time when 'P and O' was king,

And Officers wore braid

And husbands strayed behind potted-palms,

While violin trios played.

But no, this is a modern ship,

Folk are kicking over the traces,

Playing screamingly funny games,

Or madly feeding their faces!

I love cruising, that I admit,

But the epitome of bliss,

Is the fact that, amid the hubbub,

One can still find spots like this.

*

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BARKING MAD

(In response to a Mad Kane opening line)

A fellow was in a bad mood;

He had swallowed a fly with his food.

As he coughed and he spluttered

Those nearest him muttered

'Those noises are terribly rude!'

*

Is It My Mind?

Note: I have started writing a diary about my present experiences with skin-cancer surgery. I know these accounts will not be suitable for Rinkly Rimes, but I also know shared-experience blogs can be very helpful. The diary can be found at http://breabry.blogspot.com.au/.
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MELLOW YELLOW MONDAY

http://mellowyellowmonday.blogspot.com.au/

IS IT MY MIND?

When I was young 'such things', my dear, were utterly unknown.

It was the nineteen-fifties, and I was not alone.

It was 'the age of innocence' and everything was pure

(Though boring, hypocritical and false as well, for sure.)

I was nearly twenty before I realised

That there were certain gentlemen who were predators, disguised!

'Certain things' were never mentioned, our ignorance was vast,

But I've learned a bit along the way; I'm wordly-wise at last.

Had I seen this cover in my youth I wouldn't have turned a hair.

I'd have registered 'Beethoven' with his musical gifts to share.

I'd have registered 'yellow shirt' (that's how it fits this meme!).

'A whimsical illustration'......that's how I'd have seen the theme.

But don't you think there's something rather spooky about the pose?

Something not quite air-brushed by the quaint old-fashioned clothes?

Was it done on purpose...the way it was designed?

Or am I a sick old lady with a rather nasty mind?

*

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WORTH HER WEIGHT

Alfred Bates got married, though he was ninety-eight,

And everyone was eager to hear about his mate.

'Is she good-looking? said Charlie; 'I bet she's quite a dish.'

'No she isn't' said Alfred; 'She's something like a fish.'

'Well, then, she must be loaded' said Charlie; ' Has she got a house?'

'Nope' responded Alfred; 'She's poor as a church mouse.'

'Then' said Charlie, persisting, 'Her cooking must be great.'

'Not at all' said Alfred 'I'd rather eat the plate.'

When Charlie still looked  puzzled Alfred finally said 'You see

She's still got a driving-licence. That's good enough for me.'

*