Thank you and Happy New Year

Despite my personal anguish this year I managed to keep writing though not always as I might have wished.I’d like to thank all my readers and people who made comments because although I would write anyway I believe one does need readers and many interesting folk have been here

Thank you also to my brother Mike for letting us enjoy some of his beautiful photographs here on my blog.He has produced many wonderful images especially of butterflies which are very meaningful symbols as well as being beautiful living creatures on our  precious earth.

I wish you all a Happy  New Year as does Alfred

With utter willingness

Fritillaria sewerzowii Green_15-2 [1024x768]

Flower by Mike Flemming.Copyright 2015

I am reposting this because it has been very popular and also because it is what I believe is the ideal attitude to the  inescapable hardness  and pain of life here on earth.In other  words I wrote it for myself although I have struggled to actually do it.

 

 

I have edited this poem 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

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

Its holiest wife

How like a prison is a once loved home.

The little trinkets brought back with sea shells,

Which used to feel the rushing of the foam,

Remind me of the  absence  of him felled.

 

The strength of features,sharpness of the eye

The sense of others feelings  from their face

These qualities, when listed, make me sigh

i long immediately to feel his dear embrace.

 

I’m caught uncertain after a phone call

I look around to tell him  all  the news.

Then sadness comes, with emptiness enthralled,

My eye can’t find him  in my  wider view.

 

Then alone,imprisoned, I feel in deep grief

And sorrow takes me for its holiest wife

 

In such captive grief

 

How like a prison is my cubicle
How wary is my body on this chair.
How still my heart and yet my thoughts are fickle.
How fast they fly to you who are not here.

How elegant your letters and your thoughts
How gentle was your touch upon my throat.
And yet you killed my words and all I brought…
You were no lover but an unsubtle goat.

As in this mental jail I’m truly trapped,
I’ll use this time to write and I may pray.
Perhaps my mind can extricate a map..
From which I’ll plot the route to get away.

Some prisons which seem external are inside
Yet in such captive grief soe humans have die.

Crossed by canals

As I reticulate my face with a frown

Its  lines   zig zag up and around

I imagine  how banal

My face  crossed by  these canals

The lipstick makes me look a clown

 

In the map of the city underground

The lines are all straight up and down

For the geography

Doesn’t matter for you see

We wish merely to travel around

 

Yet is that last line not a lie?

The Circle Line makes no  use of pi.

What to leave out

Causes great doubt

I wonder if architects cry.

 

 

 

 

 

To reticulate

reticulate
verb

rare
verb: reticulate; 3rd person present: reticulates; past tense: reticulated; past participle: reticulated; gerund or present participle: reticulating
rɪˈtɪkjʊleɪt/
  1. 1.
    divide or mark (something) in such a way as to resemble a net or network.
    “the numerous canals and branches of the river reticulate the flat alluvial plain”
 
adjective: reticulate
rɪˈtɪkjʊlət/
  1. 1.
    reticulated.
Origin
mid 17th century: from Latin reticulatus
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