tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26709329641288340282024-03-05T05:31:24.576-08:00Letters Words & LinesHaving had a poem and a very short 'article' (for want of a better word) published in Carillon Magazine, a short story on the Creative Cafe Project website and elected the short story winner for December 2011 on Creative Writing Ink, it's about time to air some more poems and short writings! (see links for abovementioned sites)Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670932964128834028.post-2260043257078687912013-05-17T07:19:00.000-07:002013-05-17T07:19:12.230-07:00Frozen Moments<!--[if !mso]>
<style>
v\:* {behavior:url(#default#VML);}
o\:* {behavior:url(#default#VML);}
w\:* {behavior:url(#default#VML);}
.shape {behavior:url(#default#VML);}
</style>
<![endif]--><br />
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:DoNotOptimizeForBrowser/>
</w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:shapedefaults v:ext="edit" spidmax="1027"/>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:shapelayout v:ext="edit">
<o:idmap v:ext="edit" data="1"/>
</o:shapelayout></xml><![endif]-->
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-3583" height="320" src="http://creativewriting.ie/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/97f81e8665818d8f.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="97f81e8665818d8f" width="259" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(© <strong><a href="http://futurowoman.deviantart.com/" target="_blank">futorowoman</a>)</strong></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You have no idea how I
feel! Go away!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But Hayden didn’t hear. How could he hear if the words were
not spoken?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Robyn could hear the muted voices downstairs and a soft
lullaby soothing the cries of a newborn baby girl. She heard many different
voices floating through her home and many, many feet padding gently up and down
her stairs. She was aware of the kindness they were all trying to show. She
appreciated the cups of tea, the scented candle, the single rose, but she knew
that they were not aware how much she appreciated them.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At night she tossed and turned. She flung her arms around
Hayden then violently pushed him away. She slept, dreamlessly, only to wake in
a quiet, darkened room, tired.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Robyn stretched her arms above her head and touched the red
velvet headboard with fingertips which recoiled, as if they had eyes that
recreated the moment of pain, blood.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No-one understood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Moments of recollection, when her lips moved to explain the pain or ask
for help, melted like ice in hot coffee, and no-one was there to see her eyes
beg for contact – touch me!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Robyn tried desperately to grab hold of those lucid moments;
to freeze them until Hayden knelt next to her, with tears of deep, deep love
soaking his shirt. She needed to melt her moments in his tears, she needed to
touch his face.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The blackbird chirped, indifferent to human pain. The buses, lorries, and cars all swished beneath the window undisturbed by the
pain behind closed curtains. Why should they care? Who were they to care?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Robyn took a deep breath. The baby girl cried. The voices
grew louder. The sirens faded.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>(Writing Prompts http://creativewriting.ie/writing-prompts/)</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670932964128834028.post-66641727859589375712013-02-22T04:11:00.000-08:002013-02-22T04:20:49.266-08:00The story between the lines<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:DoNotOptimizeForBrowser/>
</w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdUvghcYr5YzSx49Dt5OZ9orXxmNDagziP7d3NgdGB9FKfeob7SdT9tGTtMpAVDRrP_Ojtg13s-DvjDOpr7-bzQnMxSO4Gw8qT0_MtLpYQZDj45jA_2g61Wa4RIzB69-XfWIyATbJabxM/s1600/whisper-from-the-past-by-Patual.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdUvghcYr5YzSx49Dt5OZ9orXxmNDagziP7d3NgdGB9FKfeob7SdT9tGTtMpAVDRrP_Ojtg13s-DvjDOpr7-bzQnMxSO4Gw8qT0_MtLpYQZDj45jA_2g61Wa4RIzB69-XfWIyATbJabxM/s400/whisper-from-the-past-by-Patual.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong>Copyright © <a href="http://patual.deviantart.com/" target="_blank">Patual</a></strong> </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:DoNotOptimizeForBrowser/>
</w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You think my story romantic, you envy me. The pictures you
conjure up in your mind, with my words are perfect, paradise. Your face
expresses your thoughts. Your dreamy eyes mesmerised by your interpretation of
my story.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I left the ugly bits out. Yes, the early morning walks
watching the sun play with the clouds and switching off the darkness like a
light switch were magical. Yes, the silhouettes of houses and trees as the sun
reluctantly sank beyond the now were worthy of a National Gallery artist’s
brush.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, the adventures were
exciting, childlike and daring!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But does your imagination place my story on summer days and
nights? Did you ever consider the reverse of my story canvas? Did you ever see
me plodding past that beautiful snow sprinkled engine wearing thin trousers, a
jacket far too large with a zip that didn’t work? Did you see my ears almost
raw, red from the cold? Did you think where I slept on those icy, windy nights? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No, you probably didn’t imagine me shivering under a thin
Salvation Army blanket on the cold iron floor of one of the monster’s empty
draughty coaches. You probably didn’t see me arriving and leaving under cover
of darkness, keeping watch on the lighted windows for anyone who may suspect my
trespassing presence.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The stories I tell you are the good times I recall from the
hard times I passed through. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The stories I keep inside are the hurts and
disappointments, which made me strong enough to extract the good!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>(Written for www.creativewriting.ie/writing-prompts/ <span style="font-size: x-small;"></span>Writing Prompts<span style="font-size: x-small;">, February 2013)</span></i></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670932964128834028.post-8297490711026887322012-08-06T05:57:00.000-07:002012-08-06T14:52:43.076-07:00English OCD<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have OCD! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have an Obsessive Compulsion of noticing
spelling and grammatical errors in everything I read!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My children, I'm sure, are sick of it! My
fingers itch to correct their use of incorrect words and spelling on their
Facebook updates!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s not something new. When my son was in primary school I
remember returning a school newsletter marked in red, with spelling errors the
principal had made! (He was also a good friend!) My daughters were given fun
ways to remember spellings of certain words, e.g. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Betty Eats Cake And Uncle
Sells Eggs – because!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My daughter used
to say Fri-End to remember which way the ‘i’ and ‘e’ went.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We remembered that ‘stationEry’ was pEns and
pEncils, so ‘stationAry’ was the other one! Generally it’s stood them in good
stead – except for the odd lapse or two!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In an ‘officially’ single language country like England,
although there are many immigrants, one expects those brought up and schooled
in this country to be proficient in the English language.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In countries where there are more than one
official national language (e.g. many of the African countries), one can excuse
the odd English error; for example, lay-bys used to be a popular way of
securing a purchase by ‘laying by’ money with the supplier until the item was
fully paid and could be taken home. But was this a ‘lay-by’, ‘lay-buy’, ‘layby’
or ‘lay-bye’? All these versions were spotted in one African town!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Typos can be excused although they should not be present
when in public display, but using the incorrect word can only be inexcusable!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
While sitting in a doctor’s waiting room recently there was
a professionally printed poster in bright colours, clearly printed, easy to
read and understand, explaining the cautions to be taken when drinking
alcohol.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was presented in the form
of football goals, obviously to get attention from the English population, with
facts about what a unit equalled, the number of days a week one should
go alcohol free, etc. But the last one read as follows:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
“Eat before you drink
as food slows alcohol consumption.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I didn’t have to read it twice! As soon as I got home I
checked their website and with a sigh of relief saw they’d got it right! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
“Eat
before you drink as food slows alcohol ABSORPTION!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But how does a poster which has probably gone up in hundreds
of doctors’ surgeries across our county, slip through a simple editing process?
Even if there were only two people who checked it, surely one of them should
have picked up the wrong word!?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(I noticed two other typos in the five minute wait for my
doctor! One was, ‘appoinment’ and the other had added an ‘a’ into a sentence.
Just in-house notices that weren’t read before pinning to the notice board!)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My daughter was also amused at the notice in the London buses:
</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Please do not talk to
or distract the driver’s attention!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
(I believe this has been changed to: <i>Please do not talk
to or distract the driver!</i> …… in some buses!)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And finally: </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYgIp4J_vhZZXbXyAEhEVvBWwT0KHsIZLPkpryk3KIs4Q1_AVsmlgEgDgHPcSb6jMyydW0rCAQO3jP_MCMWDohE-7c9P_w_lA1GprJJDeKnVfinXI3h5xYw1PoiVIdFXONYMT8R5kxWvo/s1600/TomaRto%2521.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYgIp4J_vhZZXbXyAEhEVvBWwT0KHsIZLPkpryk3KIs4Q1_AVsmlgEgDgHPcSb6jMyydW0rCAQO3jP_MCMWDohE-7c9P_w_lA1GprJJDeKnVfinXI3h5xYw1PoiVIdFXONYMT8R5kxWvo/s320/TomaRto%2521.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
and ? <i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(Megan captured a passionate English language boffs correction in Bath!)</span></i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_GKncy6qCNf7FvBGJ_NZFxEws71uZ_rHZ8x6qDBVgrm3Zx7yr_0h_J_WVgnRCfvJrFiiAtxYRJ4lo0eunbmbIjkNEszQOedrFNOXLlpM6gx3MKEr6bnVc3LQ7hZgBca1WAVyRmVAWYwQ/s1600/Train+or+Railway+station+sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_GKncy6qCNf7FvBGJ_NZFxEws71uZ_rHZ8x6qDBVgrm3Zx7yr_0h_J_WVgnRCfvJrFiiAtxYRJ4lo0eunbmbIjkNEszQOedrFNOXLlpM6gx3MKEr6bnVc3LQ7hZgBca1WAVyRmVAWYwQ/s320/Train+or+Railway+station+sign.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(And yes, I've read this blog a good few times to make sure there aren't any glaring errors! If you find one I suppose you'll have to let me know!)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670932964128834028.post-19745845575031524322012-08-05T08:52:00.001-07:002012-08-05T08:52:39.203-07:00Poets & Harvests!<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I often wondered how my high school English teacher could
say with such certainty what a 17<sup>th</sup> or 18<sup>th</sup> century poet
meant in the cloaked verses of our anthologies! In fact in my final English
exam I remember phrasing some of my answers to reflect these doubts with
comments like, <i>The poet <u>may</u> have been referring to….</i> or, <i>it’s <u>possible</u>
that the poet was thinking….</i> and in one answer, <i>our teacher said that……,
but I think …..</i>! Maybe that’s why my grade was not as high as I’d hoped!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
While standing at the bottom of a harvested barley field
early in the morning with patient <a href="http://www.livesandtimesofbella.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Bella</a> at my feet, I tapped these words into
my Blackberry memo pad:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>Crass naked stalks where golden barley e’er did wave in
gentle breezes</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>playfully.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>Hard huddling hollow brown and yellow clumps bereft of</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>childhood games.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>But to the sun whose light is golden,</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>still a beauty lies beside</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>dark guardian trees and passing clouds;</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>admired by those who see beneath the discipline</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>of necessity.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was a beautiful fresh sunny morning with the sun weaving
in and out of grey-white clouds and it struck me that we often speak of ‘golden
barley fields’ (immortalised by <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rCNJBopK25I&feature=fvwrel" target="_blank">Sting</a>!) but usually it’s the before-harvest
picture! So to see that harvested field with the sun lighting it up was a
beautiful scene. At that point my mind was not on ‘lessons of life’ or ‘deeper
meanings’! I just wanted to describe what was before me in poetic language. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Maybe one day this 21<sup>st</sup> century poem will
be read by high school students trying to find <i>what the poet was trying to
say</i>, and I hope that their teacher will allow them to <i>guess</i> at any
possibilities but also point out the incredible beauty of God’s creation around
us all and how to express it for themselves!</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ4koFVe28INMe06Bp1Lx9IBX3cMKTc6e12yLpI6IIzwMQFtrULT7KKTiNLImun7jew2OTXx0YJjVkgJUwLdNgaE6FsYA9G7O7mdvxERfWjJprBMjCkml4xGOLspssJJkZjWwOcWRpUCA/s1600/Barley+field+harvested.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ4koFVe28INMe06Bp1Lx9IBX3cMKTc6e12yLpI6IIzwMQFtrULT7KKTiNLImun7jew2OTXx0YJjVkgJUwLdNgaE6FsYA9G7O7mdvxERfWjJprBMjCkml4xGOLspssJJkZjWwOcWRpUCA/s320/Barley+field+harvested.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>(photo from http://www.ebyte.it/logcabin/stans/AfterTheHarvest.html via Google images)</i></span> </span><br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670932964128834028.post-87347675550808924662012-03-19T08:26:00.004-07:002012-03-19T08:33:22.176-07:00Caroline<div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal">Robert stood back, frowned, humphed, head on one side, then the other, then deftly popped the paintbrush between his lips and turned the entire orange canvas upside down on the easel. Again he stood with head on one side, closed one eye, then the other, wrinkled his nose and eventually reached forward and delicately dabbed the darkened brush to join the lines on the very satisfying backdrop.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This had to be right. It had to be perfect and there was no doubt that it would be unique. The oranges seemed to have just mixed themselves and Robert knew he would never be able to recreate the effervescent, depth and richness of that scene.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Much like Caroline. As Robert’s mind wandered, the picture on the easel became the slum streets of Mexico nearly five years ago where Caroline had first set eyes on a young, adventurous, and ruggedly handsome specimen of humanity! They’d been happy in Mexico. She was vivacious, happy, spontaneous. After two ecstatic, energetic years she’d agreed to return to his home country and it was then he discovered, despite his unfailing, devoted love, how wild and free she was. She ran with him, but he couldn’t hold on to her……</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF-TWthQbWF9cQoXO06y8Cl_6h3BgnQR_hB1hv_5gEpl-cBR-TzC5zAqxIDgg4PgkrLzG3bAc3p-DcOri1UjIUdIwUDuxmb3fLgJ2mywgyK9l5ZeUKk91EqivKEqU0zmD2F7lKNS7PTlw/s1600/Caroline+-+image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF-TWthQbWF9cQoXO06y8Cl_6h3BgnQR_hB1hv_5gEpl-cBR-TzC5zAqxIDgg4PgkrLzG3bAc3p-DcOri1UjIUdIwUDuxmb3fLgJ2mywgyK9l5ZeUKk91EqivKEqU0zmD2F7lKNS7PTlw/s320/Caroline+-+image.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;">Robert righted the canvas and smiled. Caroline was a good memory, but she needed to be free, and he would never find anyone as bold, as deep, or as comforting. The orange canvas smiled back as the shadowy characters galloped on. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><i>(<span style="font-size: x-small;">Image from http://creativewriting.ie/writing-exercises/ Writing Prompt 19th March 2012)</span></i> </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670932964128834028.post-1483879255659819562012-03-09T09:38:00.000-08:002012-03-09T09:38:32.896-08:00My Senses, My Memories - Feb 2012 Poetry win!<a href="http://creativewriting.ie/2012/03/09/february-poetry-winner-2/">http://creativewriting.ie/2012/03/09/february-poetry-winner-2/</a><br />
<br />
I wrote this while on a holiday, but also remembered lying on the grass with my children making pictures from the clouds, then closing our eyes and 'seeing' spirogyra (the only biology term I ever remembered from high school!) and other bright lights flashing in and out!<br />
<br />
With eyes closed other senses seem to take over and hearing especially is heightened. It's also a relaxing exercise in the middle of the day - if you're not driving or walking across a busy road!<br />
<br />
Thank you <a href="http://creativewriting.ie/" target="_blank">creativewriting.ie </a>for choosing it as your February poetry winner!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBILgM44v66CC-_57bsiaktBY4PG58owXOClgRgoVqps3esW6-rJCGufesTHTFgM3NZJO4ZhfLzJWAnxnrEVj0xF3LxYEbkgxSTo6J7As3FfQYdsMELPqqk5A6WFV0Jsj3eqPP-FrTezc/s1600/016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBILgM44v66CC-_57bsiaktBY4PG58owXOClgRgoVqps3esW6-rJCGufesTHTFgM3NZJO4ZhfLzJWAnxnrEVj0xF3LxYEbkgxSTo6J7As3FfQYdsMELPqqk5A6WFV0Jsj3eqPP-FrTezc/s320/016.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670932964128834028.post-62289963978180023242012-03-08T08:26:00.000-08:002013-04-07T08:26:52.167-07:00Surprises!I didn't start writing with the intention of making my fortune!! I've enjoyed the few things I have written and have been thrilled that somebody 'out there' appreciates it and has published some of them!<br />
<br />
Today I had TWO emails! From two different places who have accepted my stories before, to say they were accepting a second! Whoo-hoo!!<br />
<br />
Bringing my total to 7! Nothing I can go on a spending spree with, in fact, I think I may have been able to buy a cup of coffee and a biscuit from the proceeds of two articles!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://creativewriting.ie/" target="_blank">Creative Writing Ink</a> made me the December 2011 winner for the short story <a href="http://creativewriting.ie/2012/01/27/december-short-story-winner/" target="_blank">'<i>Jessie'</i> </a>and they have now voted me the poetry winner for February 2012 for <i>'My Senses, My Memories'</i> (watch the website!).<br />
<br />
About a year ago <a href="http://creativecafeproject.co.uk/SubmissionGuidelines.aspx" target="_blank">Cafe Lit - Creative Cafe Project</a> - put my story <a href="http://creativecafeproject.co.uk/Neighbours.aspx" target="_blank"><i>'Neighbours'</i></a> on their site, and today they've accepted <a href="http://cafelitcreativecafe.blogspot.co.uk/2012/03/good-luck-bad-luck-cat.html" target="_blank"><i>'Good Luck Bad Luck Cat'</i></a>!<br />
<br />
So two in <a href="http://creativecafeproject.co.uk/SubmissionGuidelines.aspx" target="_blank">Creative Cafe Project,</a> two on <a href="http://creativewriting.ie/competitions-and-events/" target="_blank">Creative Writing Ink</a>, two in <a href="http://www.carillonmag.org.uk/index.html" target="_blank">Carillon Magazine </a>(issue 29 February 2011 & Issue 31 November 2011) and one on the <a href="http://www.lulu.com/product/calendar/my-calendar/18629933?productTrackingContext=author_spotlight_47509_" target="_blank">Gold Dust 2012 calendar.</a> I'm happy!<br />
<br />
It's not an ego thing, just nice to be acknowledged! Makes you feel good about yourself and gives the encouragement to carry on!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670932964128834028.post-80240475268346453292012-01-31T14:28:00.000-08:002012-01-31T14:28:43.845-08:00Seasons of Leaves<strong><em>SEASONS OF LEAVES</em></strong><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">Today - they wave in warm sunny breeze</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">Tomorrow - they flutter down to the ground</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">The next day - they’re hardly seen at all</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">The seasons of leaves once more.</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">Today - they shush with all their friends</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">Tomorrow - they rustle and start parting ways</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">The next day - they’re hardly heard at all</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">The seasons of leaves at your door.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">Today - they’re green and shiny and bright</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">Tomorrow - they’re brown and dull and wet</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">The next day - they’re slush and composty stuff</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">The seasons of leaves – just enough.</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">So next time you see or feel or squash</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">The shapely veined babe of the tree</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">Spare a thought - Take time to consider</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">The seasons of leaves</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">For you - And for me.</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div> <o:p></o:p><br />
(<a href="http://creativewritingink.co.uk/writing-exercises/">http://creativewritingink.co.uk/writing-exercises/</a> 23 Jan 2012)<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670932964128834028.post-87087602182408113332012-01-31T05:01:00.000-08:002012-01-31T05:03:18.877-08:00Going home.This is it. The day has come. The crosses on the calendar will stop. It’s time.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">Janey stared at the taxi man watching his lips move but not hearing a sound. Watching him stretch out his hand to take the small overnight bag slouched at her feet. She didn’t move. Her thoughts were on pause.</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">From across the seas she felt her heart start to beat, her neat breasts twitched as the breath of what was to come stirred inside. The edges of her glossed lips climbed to meet the sparkle which suddenly shone from her green eyes. </div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjTfb7UKwbl6O3-0dkSUv4BOJ8ZhGiQ3jdGP1ukwNHw0gm1DlELZ0SmKGEpNmOO35IPBP90Y5-n0oKuoXsJl04rbtxHCV0no_ONubBC7qyZmkyyAcCgYprFpLROmU39Lw49WsdB9sHN3g/s1600/Writing+Prompt+creativewritingie+-+trunk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjTfb7UKwbl6O3-0dkSUv4BOJ8ZhGiQ3jdGP1ukwNHw0gm1DlELZ0SmKGEpNmOO35IPBP90Y5-n0oKuoXsJl04rbtxHCV0no_ONubBC7qyZmkyyAcCgYprFpLROmU39Lw49WsdB9sHN3g/s200/Writing+Prompt+creativewritingie+-+trunk.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">The taxi man’s eyebrows rose questioningly into the wise furrows above and Janey smiled. “Hello! Thank you, and this…,” she stepped aside to reveal the monstrosity! Taxi man’s eyes engulfed his chubby cheeks, as he envisioned staggering down the path with the polished pirate’s chest across his skinny arms!</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">“Whoa! That thing looks like it’s come out of Jack Sparrow’s Black Pearl!” </div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">“It’s going home,” said Janey and her assertive tone snapped him back to his professional duty.</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">“You want me to put that in the boot?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">Fortunately for him, Janey’s rugby playing brothers thundered down the stairs as if on cue and without a word they each took a sturdy handle and glided out the door before taxi man could take a second breath!</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">“Good luck, Janey.” Bear hugs, no tears, just knowing smiles and they were gone.</div><br />
The tickets were safely stored in the roomy patchwork bag slung over her shoulder: Dar Es Salaam, 1 Adult, one way. The first leg was easy; after that trains, taxis, and finally boat. Grandfather ‘Pappa’ Jackson was waiting. The Black Purl was waiting! <br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">Janey was the chosen one to return childhood memories to her elusive Pappa, Pirate Jack!</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div>(<a href="http://creativewritingink.co.uk/writing-exercises/">http://creativewritingink.co.uk/writing-exercises/</a> 31 Jan 2012)<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670932964128834028.post-36846929296874041742012-01-28T12:39:00.000-08:002012-01-28T15:27:44.489-08:00Culture Shock They say you can’t go back, isn’t that what they say? We looked back, although inwardly had all told ourselves we wouldn’t. Looked back at our home, the green lawn stretching out like a lake, the edges dancing with colour as the new born sun gently swept over pansies, impatiens, roses, cassia, blossoms, pampas grass and lavender. We looked back at the pastures beyond and the cows grazing in slow motion, the picture we’d been part of many a morning while sipping coffee on our veranda. We looked back at the homes around, the dogs stretching from a night’s rest, the cat’s chasing moths, butterflies and other imaginary insects in their large spacious gardens. We looked back, with a grin, at the Hadeda Ibis violently jabbing his long beak deep in the grass to spear the choicest worm, and then startled by nothing but the silence, he rises clumsily, squawking in fright. We wouldn’t miss him - or would we? <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<div style="text-indent: 36pt;">We drove silently through wide empty streets, the cars still sleeping in garages, safely locked away for at least another hour or two. There’s no going back. Tomorrow a new family will discover the tranquillity and delight of the gentle farm-like landscape. Another little girl will be rolling over the soft green lawn. Another dog will be darting in and out, overawed by new smells. Another cat will be cautiously tiptoeing through unknown territory. <o:p></o:p></div><br />
The plane landed. The weather in the northern hemisphere had been unpredictably warm and so we stepped out into a bubble of warm sunshine – much like ‘back home’ – a gentle introduction to a new home, a new beginning, a new life. The bubble kept its shape for two weeks, as we enjoyed a holiday type period living in a friend’s home with greens in the distant hills and vales visible through the small side window. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<div style="text-indent: 36pt;">But the bubble burst as we walked into our ‘own home’ – a box within a box. A garden of three or four bushes leaving a narrow strip of … is that grass? The bubble had burst. Travel cases were emptied and packed away. This is now home. <o:p></o:p></div><br />
<div style="text-indent: 36pt;">Cars line the streets parked half on and fully on pavements, and even then there’s only room for one car at a time to move towards the ever wriggling snake of metal boxes on their way to central London. No cows grazing, just neighbours dressing with curtains undrawn. No dogs barking or wagging tails, and the one or two cats glimpsed in the wink of an eye, slink under cover of trees and sheds.<o:p></o:p></div><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">No privacy to sit in the middle of one’s garden and shed sad tears. The neighbour is just a few feet away pegging her undies to the wash line which stretches the length of her garden. The sun plays on the yellow t-shirts, pink panties, white pillowslips and green dresses. And I long to go back. But this is now where I live; this must become my home. Many tears will flow, but it’s time, we can’t go back. A new life has begun.</span><br />
<br />
<em>(Published in Carillon Mag 2011)</em>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670932964128834028.post-92027472935240492642012-01-28T12:22:00.000-08:002012-01-28T15:29:11.739-08:00Jessie - Winner December 2011<a href="http://creativewriting.ie/2012/01/27/december-short-story-winner/">http://creativewriting.ie/2012/01/27/december-short-story-winner/</a><br />
<br />
It's always exciting to see<em> someone</em> appreciates a story!! The story of Jessie started when I was walking to work one summer morning in south west London. It was nearly 8am and the couple in the story were ahead of me. He was just as I described and presented a very comical picture - the trousers were proudly showing off his socks, his feet were flopping and his coat was long. An original draft included his black NHS prescription glasses which appeared to spell the word NERD across his face! Her dress was adapted for the story, but her reactions to the young man were as told until they separated at the intersection.<br />
<br />
The sad thing is, I wonder if the picture I painted in the story could possibly have been anywhere near the truth. And the sad thing is that a place like Lulu's possibly doesn't exist.<br />
<br />
Real life offers many writing prompts, it just takes imagination to build it!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.creativewriting.ie/">www.creativewriting.ie</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670932964128834028.post-47597598724191252162012-01-27T08:13:00.000-08:002012-01-27T08:13:25.032-08:00Starting Point<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 6pt 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><strong>In the beginning</strong></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 6pt 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">A few years ago I bought a <a href="https://www.writers-online.co.uk/Writing-Magazine/" target="_blank">writers magazine</a> for my daughter who was about to embark on a university course in creative writing. However, <i>I</i> found the mag fascinating and started putting pen to paper myself! One of the competitions in the mag was to write a short story based on a simple photograph. I remember the picture well – it was a woman with a red umbrella walking up some steps. I wrote the story but didn’t submit it. At least it was a beginning!</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 6pt 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">Soon afterwards I read Jonathan Coe's book <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Rain-Before-Falls-Jonathan-Coe/dp/0670917281" target="_blank">The Rain Before It Falls</a> (didn't finish it!) which at one point had someone describing photographs to a blind girl. There was a story in everything she described: the reason why the caravan was at an angle, the weather, the tree, the Spring flowers. This inspired me to start building a family story book on the photos I have in biscuit tins and ice-cream tubs. It was like stepping into a time machine with every picture; I recalled the occasion, the place, the people, the laughs, and the tears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Needless to say this can leave one in a rather quiet and melancholic state of mind. </div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 6pt 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTw9E39iHFiGUsbis6wwJziAQqmzkN-9hGBpKYuDQ417nkBbY4DEVlD4MOio2ffBnGQmm25sYPFEu2BwJBrP-VZ31P5-LJ7HfD6DwFdkyhpKHBBpU4WEHyQewTSb7-y2UYtFoJyMY8hBg/s1600/pen.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTw9E39iHFiGUsbis6wwJziAQqmzkN-9hGBpKYuDQ417nkBbY4DEVlD4MOio2ffBnGQmm25sYPFEu2BwJBrP-VZ31P5-LJ7HfD6DwFdkyhpKHBBpU4WEHyQewTSb7-y2UYtFoJyMY8hBg/s200/pen.png" width="173" /></a>When my mother turned 70, we bought her a lever-arch file, a pad of paper and a brand new pen and instructed her to write down her life story! She was always saying things like: “When we were kids….”, or “Your Granddad used to….”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She enjoyed the experience and we now have a lovely story of her childhood, early days of marriage, travels to a far away country, fears and aspirations. Although I’m nowhere near 70, I decided I needed to at least start on my own life story – for my children and still-to-come grandchildren!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve got 67 pages, with a few photos, and haven’t yet got to the part of meeting my darling husband!</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 6pt 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">Fortunately I’m a diary writer. For my first Christmas after finishing school, my sister gave me a very small page-by-page diary to record my first impressions of working life. The following year I continued on note-pads – which are now falling apart and almost out of date order! Apart from quite a gap when my children were very small – which would probably have been good fun and the most interesting parts of a diary – I’ve sat each morning over coffee and breakfast and recorded frustrations, the weather, and family news, so it was easy to start writing a life-story, but it’s possibly also a life-long task!</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 6pt 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">And then to blogs ….. And a family website ….. And an internet-published story …. And a real published poem!</div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Come to think of it, I have a vague memory of saying I was “writing a story” as a 9 or 10 year old, so maybe the beginning is earlier than I thought!?</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5ynwWDFp1GNas6Mz6qrHTXHrZIBG1bNHU_UZ9eHUgD2LaX0Jds76sySP726iyFT5TsyN3K4dsEQRztUXoNtKQbjmxATF-fpCDtwFb7pDg6p698uT8dUrl9euXsXqzzahzE0hlPUSsfJQ/s1600/girl+writing.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5ynwWDFp1GNas6Mz6qrHTXHrZIBG1bNHU_UZ9eHUgD2LaX0Jds76sySP726iyFT5TsyN3K4dsEQRztUXoNtKQbjmxATF-fpCDtwFb7pDg6p698uT8dUrl9euXsXqzzahzE0hlPUSsfJQ/s1600/girl+writing.png" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2670932964128834028.post-42700435921109054992012-01-26T07:53:00.000-08:002012-01-28T15:29:56.412-08:00Chameleon Leaves<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">A bright yellow sun</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Shines light on earth</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The leaves glow harlequin and Kelly green,</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Olive, Lime and Forest Green</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">So clean and sparkly</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Polished and clean.</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The seasons change and soon</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The skies are paler blue</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">A little less sunshine</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Coming through.</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The leaves desert their lofty home</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And lie in splendour</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Bronzed and gold</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The people “Ooh” and “Aah” again</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">As sparkling rust and orange red</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Those same green leaves</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">lie changed </span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">transformed</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Persimmon</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Pumpkin and Venetian red.</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">But very soon the skies are grey.</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Our chameleon trades his hues</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">For amber, corn and school-bus-yellow</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Chartreuse and poppy golden ochre copper</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">But come the rains and hail and snow</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Those very stars of earth’s great show</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Begin to fade</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And bleach</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And tear</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Until you look</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And nothing’s there.</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And so the pattern continues on</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">From green to gold</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">To yellow and</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Gone.</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><i>Winter 2008 * </i><i>Rose Kelland</i></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0