Monday, June 30
Tuesday, June 24
Have you heard of Charlie Dimmock? She's the water feature Queen
of TV gardening programmes, which you've probably not seen,
but you'd recognise the gardens in which she's reigned supreme.
There's always lots of water gushing from a spout
or shooting up into the air, or winding in and out
along a crafty water course which gravity can't flout.
Charlie's tanned and winsome, with a head of wayward curls
which she allows to wander free - not like other girls
who tie their locks atop their heads, or wind them round in whorls.
But when she did my garden, there were no less than four
of the water-spitting lion heads - I couldn't ask for more -
as they played their water music in the pool outside my door!
(In all honesty, I can only dream of Ms Dimmock doing a makeover in my sad, slabbed patio - but what are Mags for, if not to dream?!)
Thanks to the artist John William Waterhouse and Tess, from whose Mag 225 this detail was taken.
And if anyone would like to see how to earn a gold star, pop over here
Sunday, June 15
Shadow beings lie within us, waiting
to make their presence felt; to bend the truth
till our conscious minds are set in turmoil
by unaccustomed promptings of temptation.
We feel the warmth of all their whispered goads
which hold us, teetering on wisdom's brink,
ready to misread a situation;
to falter in our stride and lose the way...
It's then we have to choose to take control,
to push our finer instincts to the fore -
ignoring what might be the easy choice -
and strive, however hard, to do what's right,
with no regret, no thought of recompense
except a well earned sense of justice done.
Oh, Tess! I've decided to re-post an edited version of the illustration and poem I did first time around. Full marks to anyone who spots the changes to Mag 224 and apologies to Rene Magritte...LOL
Sunday, June 8
you into overdrive; I recognise the
warning signs of a mechanism which
has lost control, as needles oscillate
and register maximum overload.
Unplug wires; reverse polarity
until currents flow unhindered again,
and a temporary peace is achieved.
But still you'll wind me up and reel me in,
with no thought of my deflated spinning
mind, or damaged resolutions inside
my bruised components as the tape replays
an old story, instead of recording
a better history for the future.
Written for Tess and The Mag 223,
and linked to IGWRT'S Open Link Monday