For some reason, I’ve been thinking about fairy tales.
I’ve already mentioned that the tree lupin buds made me think of alien claws, but I’m pretty sure the plant is terrestrial, so perhaps it’s more like the talon of a mythical bird.
Lupins weren’t the only flowers I found in my mother’s garden last week that transported me into the world of the imagination.
Continue reading “fantastical flora & fauna”
The new General Data Protection Regulation came into force in the EU yesterday and the topic of security – albeit cyber security – has been in most people’s minds, which makes the photo at least slightly apposite.
The poem – written in Spain seven or eight years ago – is a repost, but it’s the best fit for the photograph – taken recently in England:
Camaraderie
In the greystone shadow
of the old jail, three men share
smokes and anecdotes. Two
wear drab and polished black,
the third raises his cigarette
between cupped hands.
Metal glints at his wrists.
I’ve been thinking about Lady Mondegreen again this week. And also about music lessons, elocution, and other after-school classes from my childhood.
When I was a little girl, like so many little girls of my generation I wanted to be a ballerina. My best friend at school had ballet lessons but, for some reason, my parents decided to send me to piano lessons, instead.
Continue reading “not what it sounds like”
Finding a broken bicycle chain in the street today sent my mind spinning back into the past, when, many, many years ago I was employed through a temp agency during the Easter vacation to work in the Toy Division office at the TI Raleigh factory.
It was my first job and I enjoyed it so much that I was delighted to go back in the summer, this time employed directly by the company. It was only a holiday job, so I can’t really have worked there very long, particularly as there would have been a “factory fortnight” in August. It’s surprising, then, just how many thoughts and memories that chain has triggered.
Continue reading “links to the past”
I’ve been looking through old files searching for poems that might be suitable to submit to a couple of competitions, as well as for a couple of projects that involve music, about which I will probably write at length at a later date.
Often, I have found numerous versions of the same poem and it isn’t always clear which is the latest, nor which is the best.
Continue reading “when to stop”
don't confuse the narrator 