POEMS AND PROSE

In response to:IMPORTANT NOTICE

Fri, 20 Nov 2009 21:26:37 +0100

Thank you for your understanding Charlotte. I know you felt the same way a little while ago.

I want to be the master of my blogs and not their servant - so I am reining them back.

I have particularly valued your comments and I want you to resume from Monday when I recommence posts to the poetry and arts blogs.

Regards

Colin

In response to:IMPORTANT NOTICE

Fri, 20 Nov 2009 21:18:38 +0100

Yes. I feel that 'less is more.'
I remember I used to wait for your choice of poetry the next day, with pleasure.
It is better to simplify.
Now you can do other things more easily, get out in the fresh air, see your friends, go to London.

In response to:OLD OEDIPUS

Fri, 20 Nov 2009 21:09:19 +0100

Very moving indeed.

In response to:THE ROCK

Thu, 19 Nov 2009 19:23:39 +0100

I like the old-fashioned tents on the beach.

It was the beginning of the "seaside".

In response to:THE ROCK

Thu, 19 Nov 2009 19:14:40 +0100

Nature's lighthouse.
The panaramic painting is fabulous.
I would love that on the wall to ponder how nature
was before our 20th Century took away the mystery and romance.
A poem in praise of a stalwart and faithful old rock.
His 'old rugged cross,' to give him inspiration.

In response to:THE CLIFFSIDE PATH

Thu, 19 Nov 2009 16:10:45 +0100

It most certainly was!
I was there for the funeral of my step-father in 1978.
His body was downstairs, in the dining room!
It lay there for a few nights, and was then taken out,
feet first, by some local fellows who had loved him.
First a wonderful tribute in the old church.
Then a slow procession to the Crematorium.

In response to:THE CLIFFSIDE PATH

Wed, 18 Nov 2009 23:50:04 +0100

I have a particular affection for the Isle of Wight, which I know quite well.

Yes the wind can be melancholy, frightening and comforting - all in the same few hours.

Those nights at Alnwick sound very dramatic and theatrical.

In response to:THE CLIFFSIDE PATH

Wed, 18 Nov 2009 21:20:00 +0100

Ancient men must have chopped down the forest of trees on Bonchurch, centuries ago. Now the soil shifts for the roots are gone. They were the binder of the soil.
I like the way the wind is portrayed in this poem by Swinburne. The wind has always fascinated me, for it does exactly what it will.
I remember nights in Alnwick, where the wind would howl around the small hotel, up there on a high hill with other buildings. During the night, wind a-howling, one could hear a deep sonorous bell tolling. It called the St.Francis monks to chant their prayers at 2:00 a.m, in their tiny Chapel, high above the sea.

In response to:THE SEABOARD

Tue, 17 Nov 2009 23:09:01 +0100

I can always think clearly by the seaside - particularly when I am alone.

In response to:THE SEABOARD

Tue, 17 Nov 2009 20:14:20 +0100

All that we strive for, and all of our achievements will only be left swirling in the wake.
As the waves melt into the sands, having reached shore with a purpose. Only to disappear, and start again.
Ad infinitum.

In response to:THE PLAY'S THE THING

Tue, 17 Nov 2009 00:09:11 +0100

"One man (and woman) in is life plays many parts."

Few people see beyond the mask.

In response to:THE PLAY'S THE THING

Mon, 16 Nov 2009 20:29:59 +0100

At first, it was juvenile play-acting.
Which was lots of fun.
As the years progressed, those feelings gathered a
maturity. A reality.
Until that time when the gathered years have
given her experience, understanding and thus,
her facade becomes a performance of real life.

In response to:PUT IN THE SICKLES AND REAP

Sun, 15 Nov 2009 23:04:29 +0100

Thank you for the reference. I didn't know that.

I have been searching for an older reference, but can find nothing.

It does sound like one of the ancient Greek writers or philosophers though.

In response to:THE TIME OF LOVERS IS SHORT

Sun, 15 Nov 2009 22:25:43 +0100

Touche Monsieur!

In response to:THE TIME OF LOVERS IS SHORT

Sun, 15 Nov 2009 22:17:27 +0100

Is that a personal question?

I was growing up too - although a few years in advance of you.

In response to:THE TIME OF LOVERS IS SHORT

Sun, 15 Nov 2009 22:11:47 +0100

Never too old to feel romantic.
Where were you when I was growing up?

In response to:SOFT, SMALL AND SWEET

Sun, 15 Nov 2009 22:10:18 +0100

Like bats hanging on upside down! LOL

In response to:THE TIME OF LOVERS IS SHORT

Sun, 15 Nov 2009 22:08:15 +0100

"My thoughts go back to a heavenly dance
A moment of bliss we spent
Our hearts were filled with a song of romance
As into the night we went
And sang to our hearts' content
.
The song is ended
But the melody lingers on
You and the song are gone -
But the melody lingers on."

In response to:WHO IS SHE?

Sun, 15 Nov 2009 22:00:16 +0100

A good alternative interpretation.

In response to:PUT IN THE SICKLES AND REAP

Sun, 15 Nov 2009 19:48:33 +0100

I just had to find out where that last tribute came from.
It was spoken by Achilles, (Brad Pitt) from the movie,
"Troy."
I wonder if it was written by one our ancient Greek
authors.

In response to:SOFT, SMALL AND SWEET

Sun, 15 Nov 2009 19:45:48 +0100

Yes, you are, dear Colin. Lovely gems.

The fists of a newborn baby are incredibly strong.
They can latch-on and suspend their own body weight.
Like the birds that sleep on a branch.
Wonders of Mother Nature abound.
All in the name of survival.

In response to:THE TIME OF LOVERS IS SHORT

Sun, 15 Nov 2009 19:38:49 +0100

"The Time of lovers is brief.."
Ah, but the memory that lingers is long.
Never forgotten, for there is many a song..
And always another Rose.

In response to:WHO IS SHE?

Sun, 15 Nov 2009 19:31:55 +0100

To me, 'She' is Autumn.
The harvest is over and Winter approaches.
We store what we can for lean times ahead.
'She' does not care.
'She' will be there whether we are or not.
'She' will be there after we are forgotten.

In response to:THE TIME OF LOVERS IS SHORT

Sat, 14 Nov 2009 23:21:14 +0100

Yes, that would have added to the thought.

In response to:THE TIME OF LOVERS IS SHORT

Sat, 14 Nov 2009 12:56:01 +0100

He might have found some way of including...
The year of the rose is a hundred of mine....to embrace the sentiment...:))

In response to:SOFT, SMALL AND SWEET

Fri, 13 Nov 2009 23:32:36 +0100

I am finding some real gems from this writer.

In response to:PUT IN THE SICKLES AND REAP

Fri, 13 Nov 2009 23:26:30 +0100

Unfortunately it does.

"The fields are strewn with reeking, dying men .... Of the eternal, mindless death cycle of war. Young men killed by politicians' words and mindless acts,"

“War is about old men talking and young men dying."

In response to:CLEO

Fri, 13 Nov 2009 23:12:20 +0100

I am very jealous of people who can write like that.

"For thousands of years Cleopatra has been immortalised as a beautiful seductress with goddess-like looks.

But it seems she may not have been as attractive as first thought after archaeologists discovered a 2,000 year old coin hidden in a bank vault.

Far from the glamorous Hollywood image cut by Elizabeth Taylor in 1963 the last Pharoah had a shallow forehead, pointed chin, thin lips and a witch-like nose."

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-436019/Cleopatra-beautiful-seductress.html#ixzz0WmQRgeMw

In response to:SOFT, SMALL AND SWEET

Fri, 13 Nov 2009 13:38:56 +0100

My opinion of Swinburne is changing Although I found many of his poems, I thought few were worth posting.

I was wrong.

In response to:SOFT, SMALL AND SWEET

Fri, 13 Nov 2009 13:21:06 +0100

Lovely poem....