Absquatulate has plenty

Absquatulate has plenty of rhymes

But the word itself is a  real crime.

To combine two words gentle

May at last send me mental.

Maybe it is just not my time.



I know my old man flew  to heaven.

Whereas I’d have preferred a holiday in Devon.

But with my permission

He made a decision.

As a result all my bread is unleavened.


That is what happened to the Jews

As around the Sinai they  once cruised.

They ran out of yeast;

That was the least

Of the problems, like ironing their trews.


See,there was no electrical wiring.

With no walls on the tents, they’d be firing.

So  as the halogen hobs

All worshipped G-d,

The men  slept as the heat was real tiring.


How did they cook cheesecakes and  rice?

Did they have a  special device?

Leave it to Adam

And his lady madam..

They could  rue it and do it all twice


I am glad I was not  alive in those days

Unless I’m reincarnated,give praise!

Perhaps I was   a cat

Ariel ‘s habitat.

Oh,woman how discrete are thy days






When his pulse stopped

My husband was very sardonic.

He liked to play deadly ironic.

So when his pulse stopped

The penny then dropped

This time he was dead and platonic.


A platonic friend may  suit the bright

Who never learned to turn off the light.

In the dark it is easier

To suck on maltesers

While  making love as the cats waul and shrike

Six months today





I feel surprised it is already  six months since His Majesty departed.In my latest dream he has ordered me to get a lodger… he must think I am in need of money!Why can’t God just arrange for me to meet a kind man with a  car as I can’t drive now; who is interested in
Wittgenstein,art,poetry  or just cooking and good conversation… or just telling me why Labour want to bomb Syria and suchlike issues.

If I get lodgers I shall only have women.Then they can tidy me up and do my hair or buy me a wig.




When I was writing just now a memory of my teacher in the top class in junior school came to me.He was a very nice man and wise.He never said anything about me being ahead of the other pupils and never made me feel different for which I am grateful.I remember one day he asked us for a word to describe a rubber,I put ip my hand and said,pliant.

Very good,he said.I was thinking of flexible but pliant might be even better.He made me feel happy.

.I still remember because  in the grammar school the nuns were on the whole unkind to me.I don’t know if they thought I must be conceited but I never was… to the contrary.And if I did stand out,my gifts were given to me,though I did work hard… as in those days there was not much entertainment available… and I liked writing essays and solving problems.

The paragon in verse

A paragon may   be lonely and sad;

Their virtue  has no appeal  for the bad.

And on reading the News

Evil is profuse.

Original sin is still to be had.


Exemplary are the best paragons.

Conceit and pride,be  you gone.

With patience they continue

To work till they are into

The zone where the best work is done.


We  may  have no astoundingly great talent

Yet we too can work and be valiant.

Desire  linked with will

Can amaze  with new skills.

We can , despite age ,remain  pliant.


The paragon of virtue is dust

Which little cares where it’s tossed.

Yet it returns to the soil

Saintly worms onward toil.

This image  settles me when I’m fussed




























Paragon from Merriam Webster


audio pronunciation
November 30, 2015
: a model of excellence or perfection
“What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason! how infinite in faculties! in form and moving how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world, theparagon of animals!” — William Shakespeare, Hamlet, 1600-1601

“Looking at a broad array of American economic indicators, it’s hard to see what investors are afraid of. The United States is a paragon of growth … especially the job market.” — Conrad de Aenlle, The New York Times, 9 Oct. 2015

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Did You Know?
Paragon derives from the Old Italian word paragone, which literally means “touchstone.” A touchstone is a black stone that was formerly used to judge the purity of gold or silver. The metal was rubbed on the stone and the color of the streak it left indicated its quality. In modern English, bothtouchstone and paragon have come to signify a standard against which something should be judged. Ultimately, paragon comes from the Greekparakonan, meaning “to sharpen,” from the prefix para- (“alongside of”) and akonē, meaning “whetstone.”

Name That Synonym: What synonym of paragon begins with “ex-” and can refer to a typical specimen or a copy of a book? The answer is …

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With utter willingness we live our lives

This is my most read post

Fritillaria sewerzowii Green_15-2 [1024x768]

Flower by Mike Flemming.Copyright 2015

I have edited this but have left the original poem  underneath as it is popular and I don’t want to remove it if some people prefer it that way.

The journey to the heart is  graced by love.
And those who need to seek obey their call.
Though virtue and her graces smile above,
We see steep paths ahead;cliffs’  sudden fall.

With willingness to cross  fields deep in mud,
To struggle through the tangled thorny wood.
Our soul within points to the latent good;
Recalls old trees astonished into bud.

As flowers spring up  to tantalize our toes
Encouragement is with much joy received;
And as we smell the fragrance of the rose,
At last we know our souls were not deceived.

For Virgil,fortune favours steadfast feet.
The journey may be long,the end is sweet.

Old version


A kingfisher in Asia] [

The pathways to the heart are blessed by love.
And those who truly seek will  never lose.
As virtue and her graces smile above
We see the hills ahead,the rocky views.

With willingness to cross the seas of mud,
To venture via tangled briar-filled woods.
Our soul within shows us the highest good,
When trees that looked quite dead are now in bud.

With flowers springing up  between our toes
Encouragement is ,with relief ,received
And as we smell the fragrance of the rose,
At last we know our hearts were not deceived.

For Virgil, fortune favours those with steadfast feet.
The journey may be long,the end is sweet.

Note:The saying “Fortune favours the brave” is attributed to several people..Virgil,Pascal,Montaigne…ete

Reverie is feared

So much depends on mood and time of day

We interpret or mis-shape what we perceive.

The sun may shine to show a better way

Or absent that,  a transient cloud deceive.


No lowing herds wind down our oil fumed  roads.

Tranquillity at dusk has disappeared.

With artificial light the daytime mode’s

 Prolonged and reverie’s  feared.


To truly live we must be incarnate.

God himself  has paid this price alone.

For time misspent we do not get rebate.

As ,like the leaves in wind, away we’re blown.


To live  aright perception must be clear

Including in its breadth all that we fear.

Simply pathological

I had a sudden episode of optimistic kleptomania

I collected jokes and cigar butts and sent them to Australia.

The Customs Office  phoned me to ask what I was playing at

I said I only sent them to create a brand new habitat.

These episodes annoy me as I’m usually tautological

I  believe  using my credit cards is  simply  pathological.

Instead I make them into unique little table mats

But now I’ve reached my limit with a thousand plastic cards and men

And so I’m going overseas  to study Buddhism along with Zen.


Episode is Greek of course

From the Oxford Dictionary


Line breaks: epi|sode

Pronunciation: /ˈɛpɪsəʊd/

Definition of episode in English:


1An event or a group of events occurring as part of a sequence; an incident or period considered in isolation:the whole episode has been a major embarrassment

1.1A finite period in which someone is affected by a specified illness:acute psychotic episodes

2Each of the separate instalments into which a serialized story or radio or television programme is divided:the final episode of the series

2.1Music A passage containing distinct material or introducing a new subject:this change is followed by an episode in this new key

2.2A section between two choric songs in Greek tragedy.


Late 17th century (denoting a section between songs in Greek tragedy): from Greek epeisodion, neuter of epeisodios ‘coming in besides’, from epi ‘in addition’ + eisodos ‘entry’ (from eis ‘into’ +hodos ‘way’).

Definition of episode in:

Dirac’s cats


I dreamed I rowed in a large pea green boat
Accompanied by seventeen cats.
And across the Great Lake,without a mistake
I saw mountains of gentleman’s hats.
I was making no waves in my effort to move,
The cats were discoursing on geometry.
I looked in the mirror fixed onto my boat,
The moon spoke  entrancing Theology.
“I wonder who’ll help me”I thought to myself,
When I saw an entire spectrum of men–
Dirac, Archimedes,Niels Bohr, with their theories.
I got my great inspiration just then.
I need seventeen physicists,that’s one for each cat,
All tied to my boat with a chain.
The force they exert will just compensate
For the magnetic attraction of rain.
Paul Dirac came up, and I looked into his eyes,
They were full of anxiety and pain.
“I am sorry I am unable do what you wish,
But my father never taught me to swim.”
“That is perfectly alright”,I politely replied,
“You can walk on the water instead”
So that’s how my boat and its cargo of cats
Were accompanied back to my bed.
When I awoke the next day,I was filled with dismay.
I saw that Paul Dirac was gone,
With the cats and the boat,of which I just wrote
And I was now completely alone.
I took a quick look,in my old physics book
And there was a photo of Dirac
I stared at his eyes,and I am not telling lies,
He threw me a very strange look.
I caught this strange look,it’s here in my book.
I am saving it for a special event.
When I gather more Data on Relative Quanta,
I’ll understand just what Dirac meant.


I need some edge,some definition.

The sky looks like a Turner painting.
At the high point it’s brighter,even golden cream
Like the top of a bottle of Jersey milk;
then it dims down to a bluey gray
with a slight threat in it
like a blacker gray…It’s
Too warm today for snow.

I swept brown dried leaves from the step..
Had to move my bike.
Then I hid them under the hedge
So they can keep some insects warm in the winter.
But mainly I don’t want to bend down to collect them,,
I’m tired or lazy after the weekend.
I still have a dress here I was ironing just a week or two ago.
Now it will be put away till next summer.
Here’s a denim jacket with flowers all over…
I did wear it but it won’t look right now.

I washed my hair.It feels soft and pleasant.
I like that feeling.I am wondering what you are doing.
Are you listening to music or resting?
Or sitting looking down the road at wet fields?
I think I’ll make some tea.
I need a focus for the day which also has a feeling
  Like those late watercolors
Everything merging
Until one thing dissolves into an other.
Some people like it but today
I need some edge,some definition.
I need someone to give me boundaries.
Time 4 pm
Kettle boils and a neighbor’s cat peers by the locked cat flap…
Wondering why she can’t get in.
I turn away.

Now the sky is without any gold
It’s fifty shades of gray.
It’s clouded dark and soft
Like your hair might have been
But I could never have touched it…
You were always too far away and moving.....

Mary gets knotted

2010 07 15  Yorkshire Dales  over Wensleydale to Addleborough and beyond

North Yorkshire



Mary was sitting at her table reading a piece in the Guardian Family section When she had finished the sad interview with a woman whose son had shot dead 5 children in a school,she tried to get up but the decorative buttons on her shoes had become entangled and her feet were tied together..

What shall I do ? she asked herself nervously.Very soon the answer came.. to slip her shoes off and then pick the linked pair up.How stupid it is,she told herself,to make crossing one’s ankles so dangerous.But with her brilliant yet anxious mind she had solved the problem and not died at her laptop.Perhaps in that case nobody would have realised  her shoes had caused her death implemented by her stupidity at not recalling she could take them off!

She went into the kitchen where Emile had knocked over the pedal bin to get a piece of chicken left over from dinner.He had also got a large ball of rough twine and knocked it round the room creating a big tangled mess.

Just wait till Stan comes back,she told the wicked cat.You know quite well the bin is out of bounds.Look at the floor!The doctor will  blame me for this mess.

How will the doctor know? asked Emile politely.

Well,it’s just he seems to be around quite a lot nowadays.I think he liked my Earl Grey Tea.Or else he is anxious about me.He thinks I am too thin…

Is he planning to hug you,asked the little black cat.

Oh,no.He can’t do that.I believe it is forbidden  by the Zippocratic Code even though my blood pressure falls if he holds my hand.

I’d have thought it might rise,mewed the naughty animal.

Now then ,Emile.I am beyond caring about men.Or women.I have no desire for desire if you understand me.

I don’t understand ,cried Emile, because cats  never lose their desire!

Well,one thing I know for sure,I am not a cat,Mary informed him .I am  human being.

Well,may I sit on your lap said the cat.

Mary sat by the window watching the trees sway against the grey mauve sky.Emile rubbed against her bosom as if expecting milk to flow.

Stop that Emile. she shouted.I am getting aroused.And you are no use to me in that way.You are getting beyond the boundary of taste.

Maybe it’s good for your circulation,the cheeky animal whispered.Anyway I am stuck.Your necklace has hooked onto my collar.

Oh,my Lord  said Mary.Don’t say you will be hanging round my neck forever.What shall we do now?

There are a few possible answers,Emile said.

1.Take off your necklace

What and leave you dragging it round the garden.I’ll have you  know it cost 15 and six,Mary said mournfully

Was that before decimalisation or is it some other mathematical model? Emile said noisily.

2.Undo my collar and take it off me then we can try to separate them.

3.We could lie on the bed and gaze into each others eyes all day,he finished.Unless you need the bathroom .I am happy

Well, charming thought that sounds I am  not willing,Mary shouted foolishly.She tore off the necklace and by some miracle it came away from the collar and freed Emile who was not totally happy at this quick release

So you are not in love with me,he yelped like a small  but jealous god.

Well,I do love you,sweetheart,But I am not expecting marriage.In any case  you would have to be transgender first and I don’t recommend it

How about trans-species ? he murmured seductively.

Even the most demanding folk in Britain have not yet requested to be made into cats,she told him half consciously.

Emile began to cry softly

Whatever’s wrong,dearest,she asked him mindfully.

I was hoping you could become a cat like me,Emile said in his Cockney accent which had picked up from the TV.

That is very sweet,dear but how would we pay the Council Tax and get books from the Library?

We would go to the old greenwood and live the life of freedom,he said.

Well,you are used to it,said Mary,but I like to think about Wittgenstein.I wonder if he’d like to be a cat if he were not dead.Would Sylvia Plath have been happier as a cat? We shall never know.But it could have helped her a great deal if Ted were just a randy tom.

Thus Mary , lounging in her red chair fell  fast asleep  in her   warm blue woolly dress with Emile on the dining table beside her eating some Wensleydale cheese she had forgotten to put away.

Mm very nice Emile mewed.I hope  the people in Wensleydale have made some more.

And so say all of us.

For it’s a jolly good seller.

So say all  of us.



When doubts and drawbacks struggle in the mind


When doubts and drawbacks struggle in the mind
And certainty seems but a demon dream,
When the faith to love is what no-one can find
For even when asleep, the mind still schemes

When darkness and defeat seem close at hand
And lights dim even as we pray for peace
when wrecks and ruins rile the native sands
When in this life we feel we’ve lost our place…

Then at the saddest depth we see the light
Surrounding with such warmth,with love adorned.
The path that seemed so wrong now leads us right
And in our hearts, warm feelings are new born

Within each storm there is a calm still eye
From there we see the fiercest clouds blown by


To see with love


They lay down in awe and fear,
Of what their love was bringing near.
They gazed into each other’s eyes
And so did rhapsodise.

They lay down to gaze into
the eyes and soul and heart so true.
They gazed until,when overcome,
They were united into one.

Their souls and bodies were conjoined,
And thus their hearts were well entwined;
As honeysuckle on the walls,
In joy’s sweet arbours does grow tall.

Their loving lips and eyes and hands
Gave pause to time’s soft flowing sands;
And while they touched and gazed so long,
The birds sang out in glorious songs.

The eyes are mirrors to the soul,
and love will make us grow more whole.
Gaze lovingly on humankind..
And hold care in your mind.


My I is in flames

My eye and my I are inflamed.

They show I am feeling ashamed.

But when I sat here

My mind was revered

By a fox which  has guessed I am tame.


I believe he has worshipped me well

But my ego has not shrunken nor swelled

For what is a fox for

But to sit and adore

Myself and my cat in this dell?


The fox thinks  he may eat the cat.

The cat’s making eyes at  a bat

I am alone.

My heart’s a hot stone.

I wonder if this form is too pat?


They say,you’re never alone with a what?

A cigarette  hiding under your hat.

I do like a felt hat,

But no-one felt me like that.

I  miss your warm hand and your pat.



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