spot on Boy wonder...or should I say "nice"Originally Posted by Boy Wonder
spot on Boy wonder...or should I say "nice"
The Anniversary Waltz is pencilled in. Loved it in 2007 but I think I peaked about then!Would still love to give it another go.
Here's one for the early risers.....
Sister, awake! close not your eyes,
The day her light discloses;
And the bright morning doth arise
Out of her bed of roses.
See the clear sun, the world's bright eye,
In at our window peeping;
Lo, how he blusheth to espy
Us idle wenches sleeping!
Therefore awake, make haste I say,
And let us without staying
All in our gowns of green so gay
Into the park a maying.
Thomas Bateson
Last edited by Harry H Howgill; 18-12-2009 at 07:45 AM.
The Anniversary Waltz is pencilled in. Loved it in 2007 but I think I peaked about then!
Here's one for the early risers.....
Sister, awake! close not your eyes,
The day her light discloses;
And the bright morning doth arise
Out of her bed of roses.
See the clear sun, the world's bright eye,
In at our window peeping;
Lo, how he blusheth to espy
Us idle wenches sleeping!
Therefore awake, make haste I say,
And let us without staying
All in our gowns of green so gay
Into the park a maying.
Thomas Bateson
Awww HHH what a great poem to start the day! wouldn't it be nice to sleep in a bed of roses what a lovely image....thank you.....i have to confess these dark morning have turneth me into something of an idle wench! .....
and another for the anniversary waltz...cool, can't wait now!.....better start the training!...have a lovely day HHH!
Last edited by freckle; 18-12-2009 at 08:36 AM.
Top of the morning to ya!....there is a smattering of snow round here, so I thought this was apt...
SNOW AND SNOW
by Ted Hughes
Snow is sometimes a she, a soft one.
Her kiss on your cheek, her finger on your sleeve
In early December, on a warm evening,
And you turn to meet her, saying "It''s snowing!"
But it is not. And nobody''s there.
Empty and calm is the air.
Sometimes the snow is a he, a sly one.
Weakly he signs the dry stone with a damp spot.
Waifish he floats and touches the pond and is not.
Treacherous-beggarly he falters, and taps at the window.
A little longer he clings to the grass-blade tip
Getting his grip.
Then how she leans, how furry foxwrap she nestles
The sky with her warm, and the earth with her softness.
How her lit crowding fairylands sink through the space-silence
To build her palace, till it twinkles in starlight
Too frail for a foot
Or a crumb of soot.
Then how his muffled armies move in all night
And we wake and every road is blockaded
Every hill taken and every farm occupied
And the white glare of his tents is on the ceiling.
And all that dull blue day and on into the gloaming
We have to watch more coming.
Then everything in the rubbish-heaped world
Is a bridesmaid at her miracle.
Dunghills and crumbly dark old barns are bowed in the chapel of her sparkle.
The gruesome boggy cellars of the wood
Are a wedding of lace
Now taking place.
PS last day at school for many today which means non uniform and choice of toy.....mine would be kerplunk...how about you?
Last edited by freckle; 18-12-2009 at 08:39 AM.
PS last day at school for many today which means non uniform and choice of toy.....mine would be kerplunk...how about you?[/QUOTE]
Battling Tops!
Can barely keep up with posts but saw this...I'll be doing Guisborough Woods and hopefully Clay Bank East if my jetlag isn't too bad. I'll be totally unfit from not running but I like to step straight back into the fire.
I loved the Ben Okri, Freckle.
Hi HHH, this is lovely! Have enjoyed a lot of the recent posts. Anniversary Waltz is on my list too.The Anniversary Waltz is pencilled in. Loved it in 2007 but I think I peaked about then!
Here's one for the early risers.....
Sister, awake! close not your eyes,
The day her light discloses;
And the bright morning doth arise
Out of her bed of roses.
See the clear sun, the world's bright eye,
In at our window peeping;
Lo, how he blusheth to espy
Us idle wenches sleeping!
Therefore awake, make haste I say,
And let us without staying
All in our gowns of green so gay
Into the park a maying.
Thomas Bateson
A couple more from hot and sticky Kerala:
the painting seller
longs for the charm of Krishna
and his many loves
backwater haven
a soothing breeze caresses
but still the crows caw
night-time raga
land of ninety tongues
a single voice dips and soars
sending me to sleep
ps...thanks for all your lovely comments and encouragement guys.x
Hes i think i will try and do both now i know you will be there! it will be lovely to meet up and hear all about India...i will defo be at the back, my fitness is suffering due to excess mince pie consumption!...loving your haiku, brilliant and so nice to hear from you x
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