ALONE by Alex

We stand together where the earth
finds us, fairly close, could be
our fingers touch; two stones mating

and it's cold, instantly breakable.

I can't blow your blood
round if it stops,
we can only pretend. You should
be told there is a limit to this
heartbeat and looking like
the same piece of machinery;
that someone else will disconnect
the necessary organs, break off
the productive flow; that one half of us is
daubed with different time.
You should be told.

or perhaps you already know
and the craft today is how
you blindfold your tomorrow.

Maybe you see how separate we are,
even when our breath feels now
like one delicious thought.

copyright Alex May '72

A BLOGGERS' FLOWERY FAREWELL !

My present partner Chris, and I, are taking off for an adventure in our motorhome this weekend, to spend some time with no pressures or time limits. Chris has recently had a heart attack and needs the rest, and I, well, I just need some book time and scrabble time, with no TV bulletins about swine flu, nor politicians arguing about expenses abuse. I want to experience late mornings, early nights, meals outside, shorts and tee shirts, B-B-Q's, wandering, swimming, exploring, site-seeing, chatting, and stopping to smell the flowers on the way, etc etc.

Speaking of flowers I shall leave you will some beauties which I took last week at an animal park here in mid France......

Beautiful pink rhodedendrums

A darker variety!

Not sure what this is? Perhaps magnolia - I am hopeless!

Lovely pink and white heather!

Another gorgeous rhodedendrum this one a delicate cream colour!

But- I shall miss the internet, and the blogging , and, believe it or not, some of the soaps!! ( sad isn't it!) So I shall be back sometime !!

THE WORLD REALLY IS A STAGE

Nothing changes does it?


First time I have really read these words! I was surprised to see the french words creeping in on the last line!

All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players; they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages. At first the infant, mewling and puking in the nurse's arms; then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
and shining morning face, creeping like snail unwillingly to school. And then the lover, sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad, made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard, jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, seeking the bubble reputation even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, in fair round belly with good capon lin'd, with eyes severe and beard of formal cut, full of wise saws and modern instances; and so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, with spectacles on nose and pouch on side; his youthful hose, well sav'd, a world too wide for his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,turning again toward childish treble, pipes and whistles in his sound. Last scene of all , that ends this strange eventful history, is second childishness and mere oblivion; sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

William Shakespeare

As You Like It, 2. 7

IMAGINE JOHN TODAY

IMAGINE

Imagine there's no heaven

its easy if you try

No hell below us

Above us only sky

ImAgine all the people

living for today

Imagine there's no countries

It isn't hard to do

Nothing to kill or die for

And no religion too

Imagine all the people

Living life in Peace

You may say that I'm a dreamer

But I'm not the only one

I hope someday you'll join us

And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions

I wonder if you can

No need for greed or hunger

A brotherhood of man

Imagine all the people

Sharing all the world

You may say that I'm a dreamer

But I'm not the only one

I hope someday you'll join us

And the world will live as one.

lyrics by John Lennon

You cannot read the lyrics of John Lennons' Imagine , without singing it in your mind, the haunting music just floods in! But it's the words that are shouting his outrage at life, and they are even more poignant today. He tried to make the world listen and care, but instead outraged the church, increased his fortune, and pushed him further forward, centre stage of the world! I wonder , had he lived, how would he view the world today?

On the 8th December 1980 I was visiting my husband in hospital following a major road accident. I heard the news of the assasination of John Lennon over the car radio just as I was leaving; I rushed back to the ward to Alex and we just wept, along with the entire world. What a loss!

THOUGHTS ABOUT A ROOM!

This following poem was written by my late husband in the '70 's....

THE ROOM.

A clock ticks,
twice a second in the vacant air,
it hits against the silence
of the room,and holds in defiance
the emptiness, the apparent nothing.
And tells of someone near.

The clock ticks,

a scarf liesdraped across a chair,cold silk not worn today, butused some time. But not todayso discarded it is still, still.Placed across the chair.

Clock's ticking,

still twice a second. Someone will know

what the time is, in this patient silence;

someone wants to know, someone not yet there

and the room waits silently.

Like the scarf across the chair.

Poem by Alex copyright

LIFE IN OUR GROUNDS!

My last posting was labelled " Death in our Grounds " ! It was a sad post and I want to counter-balance it with this post " Life in our Grounds "- because although we are devastated at losing so many trees, new and beautiful life is bursting forth everywhere and that is wonderful! I have no idea what the above tree is bit it does have the most magnificent blossom....

A large, but oh so delicate flower!

Even the grass this year is sporting purple flowers! I don't like to think of them as weeds!

These are lovely too, again I have no idea of their name, but they are growing everywhere in the woods in big luscious patches!

....and look at these little beauties, fragile, wild flowers growing ' willy-nilly'.....

... and how can we forget those stingy things, ouch!.......

.......but they have a beauty all of their own-- and they make an excellent nettle wine :)

Finally, keep your fingers crossed for this poor chap, he is hanging on in there!
We do have the 'proper' flowers too, but I thought you might appreciate the ' walk on the wild side' of my gardens today!

DEATH IN OUR GROUNDS

Dramatic words! But nevertheless true, this winter has decimated our struggling trees--they gave up the ghost and came crashing down! Not one or two , but five huge trees shattering their branches as they fell.

The trees appeared to be healthy.......

What caused this devastation?

There have been no particularly strong winds here in mid-France ;

We had to call the local farmer in to help......

Who cut them up for us....

and stacked them neatly......

One or two trees have also been struck badly with the beetle....

Look closer! It's horrendous isn't it!

The farmer will cutting this down this week!

Anyone else having the same problems?

SEALS, SYNCHRONIZING, & SUPPER

Please forgive the aliteration, I couldn't resist it!

I am posting a few photos to lighten up the end of my week! it's been a funny week for me-- I joined Twitter and couldn't get the hang or point of it, also couldn't load my photo, then pressed the wrong button and I am now left with a default 'blank' in place of a photo, and a new name of " the mystery woman"? not my choice so have no Idea why they are calling me that. My heart doesn't seem to be in anything this week, I had better buck up as its my Birthday soon! AHA! Perhaps that's it!! I just dont want to be a year older -help! So here we go with the photos all taken whilst I was on holiday in Spain a few years ago....

First one -- the seals....................... and loving

Aren't they gorgeous...

The second on is of a group of synchronizing swimmers with dolphins, it was an amazing show to watch...

I KNOW! It's not the best of photos-- the girls are the circle of pink things! Nobody said this was going to be a professional shot! You have to use your imagination.

The final photo is the ' piece de resistance'----The Last Supper!!! ( on the beach- amazing)

Great job, Sandman!

Well that's it folks! Hope it did it for you :)

ALEX and UNEMPLOYMENT

Looking through my late husbands' work I came across the following poem, written by him and dated November 8th. 1971. In this current recession it seems apt to post it today. He wrote it at the time he had left the BBC- where he had worked for many years- to take over the running of our household of four children whilst I persued my career. I guess we were one of the early 'role-reversal' couples! It would appear on this particular day, he wasn't too happy about the situation! However I am happy to to say that it did work and very successfully up until 1983 when we both went into business together..... So here it is.....

CELL

I sit unemployed in redundant Autumn

listening

to the wind

cutting its first Winter teeth

through the grass and my uncombed hair.

The imprisoned day

watches

the distinction it makes

between light and shade,

like the idiotic sun

drawing its inevitable circles in the air.

The day is a shorter one than yesterday,

perhaps, tomorrow

the sun will lose its way.

by Alex, copyright '71

SEA VIEWS

SEAS.

Bare feet on the sand.

Cold sea-water,

white shanks belching

out of the slick havoc,

confides over them noisily,

the tide's breath

and twists of water

stepping from the sea.

Staring out of the world.

The deep, audacious sky

stays put

where someone outside

drew a line around the world.

Its cold edges trickle over my mind,

in a moment of immense time,

embracing me with false colour,

and depth boasting its loud head off.

Then the water breaks its spine.

And I watch it

slide back

breathlessly into the sea's gullet.

Poem by Alex: October 1971 Copyright

FINGERS ON THE GLASS

Window-pane

with traces of moisture,spirals

of each finger's tip

pressed firmly, leaning, against

the transparent division

Separating;

inside from outside,

warmth from cold,

sound from sound,

opulence from poverty,

You and I.

Though we may see each other,

only the sun crosses between us, blindly

penetrating the partition

and revealing, for a moment, my reflection

against the sky;

our eyes, together.

Place your hands on mine

and we touch different sides

of the same witness

to our cool familiarity.

Close your eyes, easily.

Nothing,

just fingers on the glass.

Poem by Alex- copyright

POEM FOR A BIRTHDAY

It was my daughter's birthday yesterday, so this is for her and for everybody's birthday at this time. It was written by my late husband for when she and her sisters were little!

BUILDING A BIRTHDAY

My wife draws a breath.

Carefully she explains

the architecture of her frivolous cake,

a large one,

with fruit, and icing

white as brides, calmly wading over the top.

She has buns planned.

Home-made.

Sandwiches cut to budget size

and filled with luncheon meat,

cheese, meat paste and supermarket jam.

Jellies figure prominently,

what's a party without a jelly?

My daughter will receive her friends

in the giant shadow of her Mother.

It's her ninth birthday.

The foundations are laid.

By tomorrow evening

the house will have been eaten.

Poem by Alex-1971 copyright.

STAINED BEAUTY

What beauty can be found in little french village churches.................

From outside......

to inside !

Magnificent in their colours!

ALEX'S TRIBUTE TO HIS GRANDMOTHER

My Grandmother Louise.

I remember her hands,

work-worn and scaly

against my feathers.

Daily scrubbed in service

when she was a young girl and

never idle a moment.

Working fingers. Lean, like her voice,

always correct and

always correcting me, sharply,

best as she knew how.

Hands that bathed me.

Hands that chastised me.

Hands that fed me, filled my own

with the strength a child needs.

Hands that loved me like her own.

Hands that knew pain; that felt,

through the hardy skin,

her love, only one, lifelessly

slip through her fingers

(to rest her hands from his weight)

Hands that touched winter

and denied the cold,

half-way to heaven as the knuckles

told her life in knotches.

These were the hands that shone stone

for a living, a lifetime;

the hands I remember

ground to the bone.

By Alex

my beloved husband who passed away 27th March 2001.

SUNSET IN FRANCE

I was inspired to post these pictures, after visiting cori's blog , as it is true that some photographs never look quite as good when they are posted up, particularly if your blog will not support a larger size? I remembered that I had taken these in November last year, one evening when the sky was really blood red. By the time I had fetched the camera the colour had dissipated a bit, but I was quite pleased with the pink hue it gave everything!

Nature is wonderful isn't it?

HAPPY MOTHERS DAY

TO ALL MUMS OUT THERE .........

IT'S RAINING BOWS !

What fun I had tracking the rainbows! But I didn't find the crock of gold though :(

A TWITCH OF SEVERAL NERVES

A TWITCH OF SEVERAL NERVES.

Bird,

wings, wind arriving.

Clock,

fell sun, face diving.

Darker as bones cramp,

a skivvy for Time.

Discreet sky: a line,

late, perhaps the bird

at flight, or a word

was unwound straight,

merry on its hook.

The stained fingers

that wrote it, long mute,

wearing an ashtray

for their grave of talk.

Twitch,

the silk bird grieving.

Cold,

listen, wind leaving.

By Alex,

copyright delphine

AN ANNOUNCEMENT !

Wonderful news which I would like to share ....

The day before yesterday my sixth great grandchild was born! A beautiful little girl.... mother and baby doing fine, she weighed in at 6lb 12 oz and her name is Natasha!

and here she is less than 24 hours old.......

My family now consists - 4 children ( all girls), 11 grandchildren ( 5 girls and 6 boys) and 6 great grandchildren ( 5 girls and 1 boy) -- isn't that wonderful!

To me that is what life is all about---families .

THE BEAUTY OF FORSYTHIA

Forsythia is a beautiful flowering plant , native to China and was discovered by Robert Fortune a great eighteenth century plant hunter. It was named after William Forsyth who was Director of the Chelsea Physic Gardens in 1770, and one of the founders of the Royal Horticultural Society.



I love the way it blooms before the leaves push through, because you can pick and display the budding branches and watch the pretty lemon flowers open day by day until it is in full bloom.




and this is what I picked two days ago, nearly in full bloom, heralding he Spring!