Day: September 15, 2025

The end of the affair

  • Stan has just got back from church.He helps to polish the pews on a weekly rota.He also embroiders kneelers.He learned in the Navy.Sailors used to knit whilst on long voyages and sew too.Now he’s home and making some coffee.
    Ah ah,the doorbell.He ignores it.Then Annie appears tapping on the window.”Hello,what’s up?” he enquires impatiently.Church seems to affect him that way……..odd!
    “I’m just a bit lonely as Emile’s come back to you.”
    “What about the bee you adopted.Bobbi?
    “”They’re affectionate but rather hard to cuddle,”she answered with tears in her green eyes.”They do look soft and furry but they are too small”
    “You need something bigger..how about a dog?”
    “I’d prefer a man,”she said softly and suggestively.
    “Why not give meditation a go?” Emile miaowed.
    “I’m a bit past it all now at 106,” Stan replied.”But, if you get some rainbow striped underwear from Ann Summers and some red bed socks , maybe that might help with the desirability aspect.”
    “I will not be seen dead in striped underwear,” she cried cunningly.
    “Well,why don’t you go on the internet?You could find someone younger and slimmer than me!”
    Annie looked very angry.”I’ve spent 20 years on you.Are you telling me it’s all wasted?”
    “No,it’s been useful to know how to ring 999,” he admitted wonderingly.
    “But my baking would have been quicker if you hadn’t kept coming in trying to induce me,reduce or seduce me.”he said confusedly
    “Are you losing your word power?” she asked curiously.
    “No,I said that on purpose.I’m training to go to a poetry weekend at East Anglia University.”
    “You are so daring,darling!”
    “Well,what have I got to lose? he riposted jovially.
    “And all the food is included.It’s only £3,000 for the weekend!”
    “Is that cheap?” “I don’t know.I need to look at the Index of Retail Prices or whatever they have nowadays.”
    They sat before the computer gazing at the government data and statistics with pen and paper in their hands.
    “I really enjoyed that,”said Annie,”It’s even better than sex!”
    “Thank God for that,” thought Stan with wry amusement.
    “Now I can keep her busy learning more about how to analyse data.I’m fed up with kissing her all day long.Now we can study for Open University degrees in mathematics and statistics and keep our minds lively.”
    “Quick put the kettle on Mary is here.”
    “Hello,Mary.We are studying government statistics.It’s so interesting.”
    “Yes,I know” she answered coltishly.”But a woman has another needs too.”
    “Oh,no!” cried Stan,”Not you too.” He fell onto the striped rug by the fire.
    “Oh,dear,I suppose we’d better ring 999!” said Mary to Annie.”How lucky you are here,dear.”
    “Well,I’ll make the tea.We’ll need it.”
    “By the way,Annie,your eyes are looking so bright.Like two emeralds.” Mary whispered.”Have you ever fancied a woman?”
    “No,darling.It never occurred to me.So many men.So little time.”
    “Well,do let me know if you are interested!”
    “Sorry,dear.I want to become a government statistician then maybe I can understand government the from within, as it were.”
    She ran out singing “Onward Socialist Lovers” to welcome Dave,the handsome paramedic who was at the door.
    “Dave,do you know any Statistics” she called.
    “Only vital ones,my angel,” he replied coolly.
    “How’s Stan?”
    “Not dead yet“Stan called spiritedly from the blue lambswool, hand washable Mary Quant rug.”Get me some fresh tea and we can all discuss the latest health statistics.”
    Anne laughed merrily but she looked truly insincere.At least according to Emile ,who was hiding behind the television in the corner.”I wish we could have our dinner,” he murmured.But no-one heard him.
    Cats don’t like tea but nobody seems to know.Emile is hoping to write a book soon.”Cat against tea.”

We draw with human hands

The vital line is drawn with human  hands

When all the force of art is gathered in

The heart , the arm the fingers with the brush

Create a mark and then we can begin.

The other self will help us if we ask

We fear to lose control, we hesitate.

With our courage ink and paint will flow

Through our being truth and love relate.

Creating symbols new is very hard

We risk our vision, fear that we will fail

With wary hands, we tremble to begin

The still small voice, the the centre of the gale

Ecstatic moments, flood our souls with grace

In that littlle crack we find god’s face

The mind needs just a hint to see the whole

The vital line was drawn with one brush stroke
The way the back leant curving into space
The dance and danger both are thus evoked

Like a play, a drama, fire and smoke
A dance performed so swiftly and with grace
The vital line was drawn with one brush stroke

The heavy bull is pounding,is provoked.
A threat, a man,  intrudes into his space
The dance and danger both are still evoked

See, the  matador throw out his cloak
A   dash of black, and here we see his face
The vital line was drawn with one brush stroke
The mind needs just a hint to  see the whole
We fill the present with our past distaste
The dance and danger, mirroring dark smoke
 Acting both dramatic and displaced 
The artist may still love what she forsakes 
The vital line was drawn with one brush stroke 
he dance and danger ,life and death evoked