Music’s everywhere

I leaned against the radio on my chair
Why put a button on the front,I cry
An opera burst out,giving me a stir

The chair is broad and could become a lair
For wolves or foxes, no need to apply.
I leaned against the radio on my chair

I live in a house, so is it fair
That animals have  got no wings to fly
Loud voices sang out,giving me a stir

For opera, one has to have the flair
Good taste and feeling, these we cannot buy
I leaned against an angel on my chair

Yet if   schools did the arts,chance would be there
There is music in an orphan’s sigh.
Oh  people sang  and bells rang in cold air

In late winter many old folk die
Make sure you tell your love  without a lie
I leaned against the radio on my chair
An opera burst out, music’s everywhere!

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This variegated colour


In between the darkness and the bright,

Graded shades of grey and lilac lie.

These variegated colours give delight.

And from my soul, I hear a gentle sigh.

As we live, we dwell in mysteries;

Must take decisions based on various views.

And unknown memories from our history

Emphasis the old,  forget the new.

For true perception, we must humbly be.

Not for moral reasons but for sight.

The emptiness lets flood creative seas.

Allows bright rays of loving, guiding light.

We need to know we do not know at all.

And, trembling, hold the doors of vision wide.

So gentle should be judgements when we fail.

Then errors we’ll appreciate, not hide.

We must deal with life unknown, unclear;

Perception is a better guide than fear.

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A funny old drawing


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We struggle on our unknown journey

    • Living life in all its fierceness,

      Birth and death and joy and pain

      We struggle on our unknown journey,

      Sometimes lost and found again.

      We are indeed like lambs to slaughter

      Death will be our final goal.

      But while we live,let us live bravely.

      Let us not destroy our souls.

      Climbing in the hills and moorlands

      In the heather, children play.

      The sun half blinds me with its light

      Yet still I see the given way.

      I received a call to climb.

      These hills are my essential home.

      My vocation is to dwell here

      While in the silence,mind may roam.

      Noise in cities is destructive.

      Though nature’s fierce,it’s also true.

      Struggling on life’s craggy slopes

      I offer up my words to you.


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Oh,wind on green

short-eared durham owl
meditating over the dale’s edge,
shadows the fields and folds
in elegant diurnal flight.
on wind-side,careful sight
may swoop to prey
and away.
your yellow broad-eyed look,
at once both sharp and distant,
holds me.
oh,wind on green,
immense your held vision,
sphere without center,
pied geometer of flight,
oh, what descent and ascent.
trees bunched by dry stone wall
call heart home

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A great blog about cats with paintings and photos


DWLckiOVAAAfaNR by Sue Clancy

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I will sleep on a pillar

I have bought 200  Brillo pads and 499 tea bags.I ate one thinking it was a bun.So that’s why I am losing weight.
I bought all these online because I had an accident and could not go out.Anyway,I burned my best pan made of copper last night so am hoping the Brillo will clean it.That is 10 pans I have wrecked since becoming a widow.And broken many pieces of china that were wedding presents [not on purpose]
I suppose I must be going to break something so better a bowl or a cup than my bones.
My husband used to burn pans and I used to explain that I always put water into a pan as soon as I remove the food.So it seems I am continuing his misdemeanors by not doing this myself
I had shingles recently and I feel tired so I sit next to my packet of mini aspirins all day feeling too idle to get an aspirin out.Still it proves I don’t really need them.
If the doorbell rings, I don’t feel like bothering to get up to see who it is.I’ll have to buy a pillar to live on.Like those hermits in long gone days.
Could I get to sleep on a pillar.How big were they?


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There is more than one meaning to “fake news”


duck drawing 001.jpg


“Lord love a duck” as my Mam used to say

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The silence seems to hiss

I lose myself in  desolate despair
The silence seems to hiss as I sit here
I find no consolation  anywhere.

I hear priests and rabbis talk of care
But what do men know of a woman’s fear?
I lose myself in  desolate despair

Yet with my holy spirit I will dare
To travel in  grey deserts where men jeer
I have found no consolation ,not so far

In  human lives these  passages occur
Where owls hoot and  black trees bend down to leer
When we lose ourself in  desolate despair

I have dwelled here  and I’m well prepared
Yet panic strikes me and I cannot steer
I’ve found  suffering ‘s better not deferred

Even God is deaf and I’m in tears
Yet  struggling in lost worlds, I know  love’s near
I find myself in  desolate despair
I want no consolation  nor false cheer.

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