This has been waiting around for an ending some time - I think the latest edit works. What do you think? I'll link to IGWRT's for an answer or two! LOL. And by a mere fluke, it has 55 words, which will come in handy for G-Man on Friday...
When Alfred Hitchcock filmed 'The Birds'
he never guessed just how absurd
this flock of hungry gulls would be;
they left the fishes in the sea
and smacked their noisy, beaky lips
as fingers offered chip-shop chips!
Is it the glare from the water, or is it the print's far too small? I cannot make out what the last line says - I can hardly see it at all!
I probably need to wear glasses, but you all know what they say about that*- and I'd hate to miss out on those passes, should I find me an elegant chap!
*Men don't make passes at girls who wear glasses.
Thanks to Tess for choosing this painting by John Singer Sargent for her Mag this week.
'If you want to get ahead, get a hat.'
As a sales pitch, I must agree with that,
but this hat looked rather silly
and quite gave me the willies
till spooky wavy lines had graced this face.
Now weirdo hat is not so out of place!
I give you a snippet from the Mag picture which Tess found this week, and which I had fun 'embroidering' a little, in keeping with the macabre subject :-)
Upwards,
ever upwards
I climb towards the light
while my roots delve into the earth.
I seek nourishment to sustain my blooms
which must encounter sun's blessing
to complete the circle
of my journey
upwards.
Here I've used the Rictameter, nine line syllabic form (2/4/6/8/10/8/6/4/2), where each line increases by two syllables, and the first and last lines are the same. For the Mag 191, Tess chose a painting entitled 'Le Jardin' by Max Ernst.
Mention a ball and my feet will start tapping
as long as there's music - or perhaps some rapping
of words that will set the mind dancing instead -
as long as the language isn't over my head
with modern expressions that don't mean a thing -
and we can carouse till the fat lady sings
an opera aria which will delight
any opera buffs who are with us tonight...
In one corner a Scots man will pipe us a jig,
in another a sailor in full naval rig
will dance us a hornpipe and shiver me timbers
as I ogle his muscles, all salt-flecked and limber
from climbing the ropes of his ship in full sail
as he weathers the storm in the face of a gale...
Perhaps we'll hear drumming in good Irish style
as we sip on a Guinness and pause for a while
to study the dancers, at this Willow Ball,
whom Tess has cajoled with her ' Come, one and all!'
I've no time for pictures or musical clips
for writing this ditty was enough for my wits
to contend with, this rather grey day in October.
At this part of the evening I'm still fully sober,
but once the old moon stamps its smile on the sky
I'm sure the festivities will make me high!
So raise up your glasses, and let's have a toast -
" To Tess, and her Manor that spreads coat to coast!"
This night,
the land is bathed
with scent of coming rain,
storm-chased by wild clouds above
the path.
In awe,
the artist stands
transfixed by the beauty
as he wends his way uphill
to home,
his house
a solid shape
beneath the silhouette
of branches dancing in wind's
embrace.
One day,
paint on canvas
will imortalise it,
this fleeting moment in time,
this gift
which he
stores in his mind,
ready to begin work
as soon as daylight calls
"Morning!"
This week, I've used a detail (colour enhanced) from the Mark Haley image which Tess gave us for The Mag prompt today.It reminds me of a Constable painting...
Shall we toe the line?
These, on paper, make a map
with grids overlaid...
whilst others etched in the past
link those far times with today.
Wikimedia Commons
Thanks to Tess, this week I read some Wiki background on the magical name 'St Ninian's Isle' and discovered photos of hidden, silver treasures that were unearthed in our lifetime. The one I've posted here had such a plethora of curved and straight lines, that I couldn't help but link it to those on the map, so you could see the connection, too. Enjoy! Please click on the photo to see the true beauty of the silver work. :)
The IGWRT Toad challenge today has got me hopping to it rather late, but I couldn't resist a bit of playful nonsense to round off the week. Sorry, Fireblossom, but thanks a bunch for the spark which called it into being! LOL
The Inebriated Sherpa
forged his way ahead-
but those who followed after him,
ended up as dead!
Drink and climbing do not mix -
no wonder he got in a fix
when he lead his party up the mountain -
he should have sipped from a soda fountain!
Love flows through the words like a shallow stream through a green meadow; almost invisible, still this stream sings, while its earth-bed of every day is a natural camouflage. Ears play tricks in the dappled sunlight of the thoughts dancing over its surface, and marvel at its unwritten music, its secret beauty.
On a bad day...
Drought sucks life giving moisture from every phrase, and a hard-baked crust cracks and shatters dreams into dust. A desert of loneliness stretches throughout a barren landscape where a mirage tricks the memory into belief of an oasis of affection. Wind flings the whirling sands into the mind's eye which cries for that which might have been.
In the Imaginary Garden for Real Toads today, Peggyasks us to turn our attention to 'Things Carried'. This set me thinking, and I homed in on the invisible things carried by words...
A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush,
or so the old saying goes,
but why in this picture the bird's on a shelf
while the young lady sits in a tree by herself -
well - I reckon that nobody knows!
