Posted in England, Writing

Keep Calm and Carry On

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Her lion heart is beating true

inhaling buckets of vindaloo

hearing the drums, seeing bright red

taste of fresh grass – battles ahead

Failure is the tide coming in

sail the ’66 bandwagon

1 of 19, the news said,

the empire is certainly dead.

Her little red mane knows the score

generations have seen it before.

Are they all just cream-crackered?

Lost, alone, completely battered?

No – because the pride roars loudly

dancing Nobby’s dance – hopefully.

We may have misguided hope

pride of St. George others can’t scope

even when their mighty paws

graze the grass like kitty claws

she WILL put the ball in the net

and put on a show you won’t forget!

Once this small cub ran through the town

painted red: oh, what a clown

screaming “Viva L’Angleterre”

the solid cup would soon be theirs.

Sigh, Keep Calm and Carry On

is the soul of this nations song.

Inspiration:

My new ‘Keep Calm & Carry On’ Mug

Englands losses in the first round.

Baddiel & Skinner ‘It’s Coming Home’ – England’s 1996 football anthem.

 

Posted in Life, Writing

The Inbetween.

 

Every day – opening and closing;

hours spent shutting out this world

caught up in her own in between.

Trapped in repetitive imagery

paralysed by the same expressions

she escapes into Narnia.

Opens her world of black ravens

whistling over an ocean breeze

a melody of her young soul.

Every day – opening and closing

Eyes anchor the in-betweens.

Todays poem inspired by Pooky’s Poetry Prompt 34 – Doors

Posted in Life, Writing

Thoughts on Life

Inspired by Pooky’s Poetry Prompt 15 – The Meaning of Life
 
 
Sitting on the stone steps of Parliament House
in my warm grey coat and snuggly scarf
clutching to my hot vanilla chai latte
as I watch brown leaves floating in the wind.
What a marvellous moment to be here!
To see, the world tick-tocking like clockwork. 
Chatter echoes from the crowded cafes
as the trams jingle their morning songs.
Sometimes I stop – listen – and wonder
it’s a funny thing we do everyday
existing and living; playing the game
Is there meaning? And it’s not forty-two.
It feels like a never-ending story
where we’re born in the middle – missing
pieces of the beginning – a puzzle
that we spend our lives trying to work out.
Some say there are three things; life, death, taxes
but I think it’s human architecture
life for me, is Mufasa and Simba
it’s the story of how we all connect.
In a giant globe of activity
this world is an enigmatic story
that happens to feature humanity
and stepping on a butterfly changes history.
Posted in Writing

OneDayOneWorld – Hour Two – 1pm

Written for the 1 Day 1 World Project – one hour a week around the world.

Photo taken just after 1pm at Half Moon Bay, Victoria, Australia.

Sunday 1pm


Out on the road for Mum’s Day

drawn to a beach symphony

of seagulls across the bay

trying to catch the imagery.

An animation of friends

singing in wondrous chorus

to the town around the bend

their melody was flawless.

Posted in England, Family, Life, Writing

Carpe Dium

I see you in our little coastal town
a photo awakens a reels of memories
of childhood antics on rocky beaches
and Welsh mountains that we would race down.
A traveller of the last century
I remember how you could spin a yarn
We would laugh at your terrible acting
every moment you made legendary.
Written across a tattered birthday card
printed like a human type writer
said the infamous words “Carpe Dium”
words that are tattooed in my mind and soul
as the world twists and turns without you.

Inspired by We Drink Because We’re Poets prompting us to reawaken a so-called dead language via a Latin proverb. I chose ‘Carpe Dium’ meaning to Seize the Day.

Posted in Time, Writing

OneDayOneWorld – Hour One – 12pm

Ever wondered what everyone else is up to at any given time on any given day? The following was written for / inspired by the 1 Day 1 World Project running from May to October (24 weeks) where each week will unveil a particular hour around the world.

Sunday 12pm

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Bound inside my suburban walls

like the spider caught in the drain

watching as the dark shadows fall

under the loud thundery rain.

Nestled in my big blue armchair

I read my book and drink my tea

the smell of pizza fills the air

with my warm fuzzy boots and me.

Posted in Australia, Writing

Confusing Figure of Speech, Fair Dinkum!

 

Twas Winter in Melbournia

students rugged up in coats and scarves

sipping on lattes and mochas

sitting where the benches were carved.

Huddled in a tiny horse-shoe

telling tales of the lost weekend

I listened carefully; laughed on cue

an outcast amongst Aussie friends.

A tale of breakdowns on bridges

and how we’d walked 5k’s to town

along the highway, fighting the midges

drowning as the rain raced down.

“Wow, Fair Dinkum, girls!”, Al exclaimed.

I just smiled; and nodded; coughed “Yeah…”

Being new to this Aussie game

Oh, how I felt like a silly mare!

I looked at Al all befuddled

and he told me the whole story.

What he’d heard had him bubbled

and he wanted truth in our glory.

Fair Dinkum.

 

Inspired by Pooky’s Poems: Confusing Figure of Speech