Which like the river flows

Oh,John Joe was a farmer’s son

They lived up in the hills.
When he went to tend his sheep
He  gazed down on cotton mills.

The rivers ran with water pure
And so provided power
Yet over these dark ruined towns
The heathered hills did tower.

Mary was a local girl
She walked out on the moors
She wore a dress of silky cloth
Decorated with wild flowers.

John Joe saw Mary dear
When he was dipping sheep
She peered over a dry stone wall
And saw the new lambs leap.

Her hair was long.Her hair was gold
Her eyes singularly blue.
In John Joe’s eyes she was so fair,
What was a man to do?

He watched her walking all alone
Was she sad or sick?
He showed her how his dog behaved
He showed her shepherds’ tricks.

Then one day,he held her hand
As they walked to the Pike.
They stood up there and gazed all round
So John thought he would strike.

He bent down on his right knee
And spoke to Mary then.
I’ve loved you ,Mary, since we met
I hoped we’d meet again

Mary smiled with her blue eyes;
Her lips were pink and bright.
I love you too and love the hills
And. love the summer light.

The next year they were married
Mary wore white lace.
She looked so happy then
To know she’d her own place.

The church bells rang,the people sang
John and Mary wed!
And naturally, when evening came,
At last they went to bed.

When Mary lay in John Joe’s arms
She knew this was her home.
And so for many. many years
On those loved  hills they roamed.

They cared for sheep and hens and goats
They cared for children three.
They never had a falling out
But talked beneath a tree.

From youth to age the years went by
But John still loved his bride.
And Mary too was happy
With John Joe by her side.

Their faces,lined, were full of cheer
Their hair as white as snow
And everywhere that JJ went
Mary too did go.

Until the day came for his death,
He lay down in the grass.
Mary ran and held him close
And thus dear John did pass.

The muffled bells rang from the tower
John Joe was carried in.
The parson prayed and hymns were sung.
The sheep dog made a din.

In the dark earth John was laid
While Mary wept and cried.
What will I do , my  my lover John ,
without you by my side?

Mary grieved and wept and sighed
And thus she spent some  years…
The loss was great and bent her back
with the weight of care.

When we open up our hearts
We feel both joy and woe.
This is the pattern of our love,
Which like  a river flow

Jewish Humour


Jewish Jokes

Manure

Schwartz, an elderly man, is resting peacefully on the porch of his small hotel outside Boca when he sees a cloud of dust up the road. He walks out to see who could be approaching: It is a Southern farmer with a wagon.
“Good afternoon,” says Schwartz.
“Afternoon,” says the farmer.
“Where you headed?” asks Schwartz.
“Town.”
“What do you have in the wagon?”
“Manure.”
“Manure, eh? What do you do with it?”
“I spread it over the fruit.”
“Well,” says Bernstein, “you should come over here for lunch someday. We use sour cream.”

The idiot life

Can one die of grief?

It’s possible but you need permission.

From whom?

That’s silly because you can’t control it by will power.

One of my neighbours used to say she would hang herself

So she would be God.

In a very unreal sense

You can stop eating

True enough.

No sex, no food,no apple pie,no sin

No summer dress and no straw hat,no strawberries no gin

Words

I threw my words up in the air
So they would fall at random.
I put some paper on the floor
For these words to land on.
They lay there like a shredded page.
I pushed them with my fingers.
Until I made a verse from them
Which suits wild drunken singers.
A Jackson Pollock of the page.
Post modern verbal mistress
As Picasso haunts Greek labyrinths
With post modern art’s distresses.

Read my first writing

https://katsideals.wordpress.com/

There will always be that river
Of pain and love that shivers,
From when we were together.
Still,in our dreaming minds we’ll be
In our heart’s own Country

Satan likes pancakes

oppyright E Limbrey

Stan managed to drive from the Wash to Knittingham without accident.Satan was asleep in the bottom of the mirror only wakening when they stopped for a cup of tea in a Restaurant.
But how can Satan drink his tea?
Stan  persuaded Satan that  if he wore Stan’s hat and coat nobody would know he was  not human.After all, many real humans  don’t look human.So Satan went into the Little Chef for his first experience of human life.They all sat down and ordered tea and pancakes with jam and golden syrup.
Wow,said Satan.I might consider apologising to  the Lord if I can eat this every day
Emile looked puzzled:
An apology is not genuine if  it is done for gain, he mewed.
Gosh,where did you get such a clever cat,  Satan asked Stan?
He just turned up looking wet and hungry a few years ago.Then I taught him at home how to speak properly and the basics of ethics but he seemed to know more than I could explain
Both the men stared at Emile as he lapped up the tea from a  white china saucer.I wonder who he really is, they both murmured in a hushed tone.
I have taught him  to swim in our bath and  sometimes he comes for a ride in my bike basket.Once he fell out yet managed to lure a beautiful lady to bring him home as he is tired of my mistress Annie and fancied someone who didn’t wear crimson and magenta together  nor such extraordinary makeup from Lemmings of Wigan and Warrington.
I’ve never heard of them said Satan wonderingly.I didn’t know women actually bought “makeup.”I thought when girls matured their faces went like that naturally/
That’s a bit stupid, said Stan bluntly.But never mind.Let’s carry on  or Mary will worry
Satan decided he would sit with Emile  and stay out of the mirror.He was beginning to look like a human being albeit a rather ugly one
What ever next?

The heat in the corridor

Alive but with no vital signs so needs a placard.

Alive though half dead with a cold; what are the options?

Alive but can’t hold a conversation.At least not with a doctor

Alive and very hot today.

I didn’t know this was a brothel.

Died but was propped up by pillows till the next shift came on.

A lack of human kindness

Died of grief but still breathing.

Suffocate with a pillow asap

Died but not yet buried

They can’t stay here

Waiting to die till the full moon shines on the bed.

We don’t cater for that religion

Died when it was forbidden.

Too late now

Died with full consent.

Of whom?

She will die when she climaxes

What time period are we looking at?

And what has the climate got to do with it?

I don’t know either

Yes, the Trent flows up one side and down the other.

lake
Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

Pray Father give me your blessing
Good grief, a real Catholic at last
Why, are there artificial ones?
No they just have terrible memories
Of trauma?
No, they don’t know what a sacrament is.
But surely how we act is more vital
I don’t know, it’s so long since I was in the cemetery
Do you mean the cement factory?
Why would I mean that?
Don’t ask me,I’m just a human being
I mean the seminary, of course.I remember now.
Do you know the seven deadly sins?
Not biblically
They are in the Bible… murder.envy, hatred
Yes, I was joking.I am celibate officially.
But what are you really?
I am asexual.
Do you have no desire?
I love people but I have no need to go to bed with them
No, we do it on the floor at home
Are you married?
Yes,definitely.She is a red head.
I thought you might say Red Indian
We have very few living in Stoke on Trent.
Where is that?
On the river Trent.
But that goes through Nottingham
So?
I thought Stoke was West of the Pennines
Yes, the Trent flows up one side and down the other.
That is a lie
Thank you.
Since my last Confession I have lied twice
What was the other lie?
I am not a Catholic
So why come here?
I am lonely and it’s bad for me so I thought Saturday night Catholics go to Confession
It’s not exactly fun.Why not go to the pub and pick up a woman?
Are you really a priest?
No,I was feeling lonely too
What a pity we are not bisexual
Well, we could learn
I thought it was genetic?
Do you mean generic
I don’t know.You mean like,buy paracetomol not panadol.
Genetic is totally different.
Am I a generic human or a dressed up, artificial and stunning person?
Why artificial?
I can’t act natural.
Try!
But if I try it’s not natural.
Was that my penance listening to you?
It could have been.Say a little prayer for me as well
So you do believe?
Why not? It’s better than dying of meaninglessness
You so seem very clever
How kind.
I’ll see you next week.

About Katherine

I like art, poetry,history, literature,cooking,doing nothing to music.And conversation

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Open up

Above Poole Harbour on the Southern side

We climbed that high green hill and heard larks’ cries

We looked with love upon a. World made new.

Our inner eyes were widened by this view.

We saw that love inclines the  heart to find

The astral body spreads out like the mind.

The world’s a mother holding me it’s child.

Yet maintains too the savage and the wild

There is no evil in the Tiger’ s eye

We are gnawed  by worms; in earth we sigh

Hold me tight as in the earth we lie

Teach me how to cry

Daddy, how we missed you when you died
None had understood but one of five.
Come back,Daddy,miss your sunny eyes

I imagined we must never cry
When the cancer took your life
Poor Daddy, how you suffered,then you died

When you wanted company, I tried
I was too articulate for my age
Come back,Daddy,miss my Daddy’s eyes

By the flower beds, you wanted a guide
You wanted me to talk.I really tried.
Daddy we fell down a hole, why did you just die?

You slept all alone when pain arrived
We girls slept with mammy, on your side
Come back,Daddy, don’t you miss our eyes?

I always hum like you did, though I’m shy
You are singing through me, close and wise
Daddy, we have missed you all our lives
Come back,Daddy, teach me how to cry.

I lost a leg,I lost a hand I lost my heart and soul.

On England’s hills and dales ,we roamed
Up tall mountains climbed
Now the Lord has got you home.
I wish it were my time

Will I never see your smile
On pale and sandy shores.?
How you loved and for a while
You unlocked my door.

Then your heart was worn away
When you saw my scars.
But they say one coming day
There’ll be no more wars.

Even in our human form
Alien life can grow.
Of two lovers, one’s forlorn,
And it shall be so.

I would not wish to go the first,
To leave you pale and thin.
Of two choices one is worse.
The Lord wants you within.

So sail away ,my lover dear
Sail into the deep
I took you to the river near.
So, alone I weep.

I send you all my memories
I send you all my thoughts
And I know, whatever is,
You were whom I sought.

You caught me up,you put me down
I don’t know where I be.
But I will smile and I will frown
I don’t know if I’m me.

Losing,losing,losing you,
Losing our dear life.
Losing,losing,losing you
Am I still your wife?

I’m not me as you’re not here
Who have I become?
But I’ll live, despite my fears.
My life is not yet done.

I lost a leg,I lost a hand
I lost my heart and soul.
Pray for me my own sweet love
And I may be more whole.

Look at me,from where you be.
Look at me again.
When you look,whom do you see?
I still have my pen

Wealthy?

Government figures show the richest 1% of households in the UK each have at least £3.6m. At the other end of the scale, the poorest 10% of households have £15,400 or less, with almost half burdened with more debts than they have in assets, according to data published by the Office for National Statistics.

Oh, dear

No noble bones buried here ..

Turn off your mobile moans in the hospital.

I need a mobile comb to catch lice in my hair.

Can I buy an idle traffic cone ?.

The Cathedral had a four mile dome and no walls .

I want a tart’s phone.

Write a short poem.

A caught rhyme

A heart came

Foggy park

I went  into the middle of the park
Thick grey fog had made it almost dark
I stood there with my cello and my books
I had found a space where noone looked

There was not much privacy  at all
The front door was left open, neighbours called
Grandad came with Lassy his sheepdog
He gave us sweets and  ate my mother’s bread

Now I have chubb locks on my front door
The neighbours do not walk here anymore
They jump into their cars and speed away
No little chat, no  updates on their day

Locked in metal cars without a map
We’re distant  or too close, so mind that gap

 

 

 

 

w

Goodbye


There was a holy place made with the screens
Where lay the old man, trembling into dream.
His face was pale, his nose felt like white ice
An offering on the block for sacrifice.

The sacred place was marked by song and prayer
Made quietly so no-one else would hear.
He held my hand and whispered, please don’t go.
I held him in my heart, as his went slow.

A cocoon made in noisy A and E
A strange place for the Lady God to be.
Deep silence underneath the usual noise,
Pierced only by my child-like singing voice.

I saw his soul.my tears fell down like rain

I felt the weight of grieving and of pain.
I heardl my heart crack, struck by loss and grief
Death had been there like a silent thief.

His pale face on the pillow seemed to smile
The kindness of strange angels did beguile

Oxford Holy Riddle

6819924_f1126074c2_m   brighter
Gold stone from Cotswold quarries young men brought

And built into a way of life for those who bought

Their lives so cheaply,And did not see

The children’s eyes,the ball,.the game ,the tree

Of life that grew in small backyards and gave all

To those who climbed into its arms.

Why should this not be you?

Oh,Eden,I see that you are nearer now

In lowly homes where love is free

Than in the temple, grove,and soft set brow

Of those who worship God in churches built of gold.

Now we must know that this is easy to behold

When sun is setting,and escapes the ashes

Thrown up and floating in the watches

Of the days of voter’e eyes cast up to skies

and,wondering fearful, what will come

when all the secret deals are done.

So take the gold of life and let it fall

Into your children’s growing souls

And let this Cotswold town and spires

Melt into sunset’s glowing orange fires.

There is no test

The tree we fear may give us shade and rest

There are no apples so there is no test.

God is not the one who trips us up

Offering the best wine for us to sup.

He favours folk with lowness of the heart

The proud don’t see him pass or him depart

Don’t use force.

I broke my phone by asking someone to help me put the charger in She said you have to push it hard.That broke some thing in the port

Trying to use force or excess will power to achieve our ends is similar Instead we need to be more gentle and more aware

I had to get a new phone but my old one was 9 years old.

We need to trust ourself and l’autre moi our inner partner that knows much more than we do as we can see in our dreams and in our perceptions if we pay attention.

We all know more than we think but don’t hunt,just wait and be attentive.

M

as

British Education

From the Times today

A head teacher from Nottinghamshire said that her school spent little time on literacy or numeracy in reception because it had to focus on basic care. Some four and five-year-old children joined reception class unable to say their own names and having drunk only from baby bottles. One child was brought to school in a shopping trolley.