Mary tidies her room.Part 1A

Mary was in her bedroom which once had been a study.There were books every where all randomly arranged
Shall I toss away “Functional Analysis “by Riesz-Nagy?I can’t remember it but it’s a classic text.She looked at her other books and found three rhyming dictionaries…. and Strunk’s guide to style.
Is American style the same as English ? she asked herself.I’d better read that.
When she opened her desk drawers hoping to find a ring she had lost she was thunderstruck by how dirty the white bases were.She sat there on her folding chair musing on this and wondering about Purity and Danger by Mary Douglas.
A whole jar of nail scissors and pens stood ,previously unnoticed, by the window.So that’s where they went,Mary thought.Things seem to appear and disappear disconcertingly at random.Perhaps she had never achieved what is called object constancy by Freudians which must not be confused with objecting to constancy.That is something quite different. that some men like to do
Mary had some clear polythene bags by her and Emile watched as he hid inside the open wardrobe under Mary’s dresses and cardigans.She found some shoes under her desk so put then into a green bag; the socks she collected in a white one and the pens and art stuff went into a box.
What chaos there was in the room with face cream and books on the bed and boxes of tissues and cotton wool balls strewn about.
Emile came out of the wardrobe stretching and yawning as only tom cats can
Shall I ring 999 , you look tired, he said mellifluously.
Oh,how kind, she responded politely in her delightful way
Soon Dave the transvestite paramedic appeared wearing a maxidress from Marks and Spencers’
Does that need ironing,~Mary asked him
No, it drip dries really well, he answered gracefully
I wonder if I should buy one,she muttered cautiously
If you go to your GP you might find you can get one on prescription
Do you think so? I’ve never heard of that before,she responded
Well, you could say it will cure your depression and grief from losing your dear old man
He will say that no double blind experiments have been done to prove dresses help women to feel better. when bereaved she told Dave cautiously
How about a double bind operation,Dave asked scientifically
What do you mean? Mary said philosophically
We tie ourselves together with string and then kiss and hug and see how it goes… one never knows when old
Well I don’t see why we need string.Someone might think we are a parcel and post us to China or even North Korea.
How about Israel?
Why do you think we’d end up there?
They have some great museums.And we could Wail at the Wall.
I could do with a good Wail,Mary replied as tears ran down her pink and cream cheeks.But I am unsure if one wails there out of grief or is it something more? Like sorrow about the Temple being destroyed.Why do they not get over it?
Well it’s rather like England and the Tudors… all those films and books as if Henry 8 th deserved such fame for ever
I’d prefer the Temple to him, said Mary fastidiously.That was a place of worship and beauty
I’d love to see the Temple.If only we could go back in time,Dave informed her.But the main point is Mary I love you so I must leave your bedroom before I die of repressed desire and lack of your tender touch
I am sorry Dave,I never knew you felt that way about me,Mary told him .Perhaps we should go to the kitchen and make some nice hot tea.And I just bought some biscuits from Marks and Spencers which are much better than any others I’ve had
So they sat at the pine table drinking Ceylon tea and eating custard creams as they watched the sun through the Acer next door.Why the neighbours had a laptop hanging from a tree nobody knew.Was it to make themselves seem superior?Was it going to be connected to the electricity so it would be like a Xmas decoration?Time will tell.Or it may fall off and kill some slugs and snails… isn’t life interesting

The sharpest sorrow

“With regard to the sharpest and most melting sorrow, that which arises from the loss of those whom we have loved with tenderness, it may be observed, that friendship between mortals can be contracted on no other terms than that one must some time mourn for the other’s death: and this grief will always yield to the survivor one consolation proportionate to his affliction; for the pain, whatever it be, that he himself feels, his friend has escaped.” – Dr Samuel Johnson

The alien world

How alien this world seems without your face

Strangers populating every place

How do long-term prisoners survive?

How do they keep their heart and spirit live?

When what was once familiar disappears

The heart is struck by cold and dreadful. fear

My heart has wavered looking for the known

To meet a friend in person, not by phone

To see a human face the eyes the smile

This would help me when I’m feeling frail.

My psycho social needs unsatisfied

Without your love I feel I’ve nearly died

Could I love another in that way?

All the lost can do is kneel and pray.

I don’t think dating apps would be my friend.

Acquainted with this grief, my tears descend m

And yet there’s always hope, black humour too.

Without our humorous self what would we do?

For humour gives perspective, changes minds

And from our soul within, the new is mined

An image or a sound says more than words

Life is humorous, sad and quite absurd

Kisses sweet

Words float like water in a stream,
Reflected gently by sunbeams.
This stream flows swiftly to my heart
And through these words your love is caught.

The space inside my heart is clear,
Your love will find its right home here.
Your words are treasures in my night,
And in the dark, they glow with light.

Oh,let me read your notes of bliss,
And seal them with a loving kiss.
I hope this stream will always go
Where living waters softly flow.

For love is kind, and love is true.
Connections form from me to you.
And love creates an open heart,
From which all other feelings start.

Yet love is free, and does not bind.
Love is glad,and not unkind.
So if my love displeases you,
Then you can find a lover new.

I have life inside my heart
Which will sustain me if we part.
I wish you much great happiness…
And know my grief will one day pass.

But for today,let’s laugh and play.
Let’s make love inside the hay.
It’s summer and we like the heat.
Let’s celebrate with kisses sweet.

The sea from the pier

You are smiling on the pier above the sands

The rippling waves stretchef out like children’s hands

You look so strong I cannot comprehend

Your fatal illness and its grievous end

You were never patient on dry land

You were living well and feeling grand

We crossed the road ; I held your cold thin hand

I suffered so much torment,would I mend?

I saw a fluid shape as dark it pranced

Through the open door it swiftly danced

With the well known wiles of Tudor kings

Hoping they can make it on the wing

I learned with grief , it came to take you back.

Across the river wide ,my love, my lack.

Forgive me for my errors and my rhymes

In the pain of this raw grief I dwell.

Is this the woe of heaven, the joy of hell?

The sun may shine, yet I am cold and still

Oh God relieve me, take me when you will

I loved my sister more than I had known

Now she’s gone and my heart is a stone

As if I rose one day to find no sun.

The darkness of the heart has just begun.

I breathe I eat, I lie down in my bed.

If I should stop what should I do instead?

Without that strength beside me I feel weak.

I look about and all the world seems bleak.

The joy I saw in every little thing

This joy has gone, and what have I to bring?

I gaze out through my eyes the world is here

Can my response be richer than a tear?

Thirty tears of silver would I give

To cheat your death and buy your right to live

I am your Judas I betrayed your love

Forgive me for my sin, below above.

I cannot dwell in heaven now you are dead

Nor can I go to hell to burn instead

In purgatory will I dwell in time

Forgive me for my errors and my rhymes

Don’t forget to write when the iron is off

Three cats. I used Microsoft paint to create this image

WecEnglish have to be careful in discussion with people who speak English but live in other countries like New Zealand.South Africa and of course, Canada, home of Leonard Cohen However much we learn, if we don’t live in England we probably do not understand the idioms and I expect in politics and business it could cause great problems If Boris Johnson says he is going to spill the beans tonight, will anyone from other countries like France know what he means.Because I assume they speak English at NATO events Stone the crows. here is Boris striking while the iron is hot and spilling the beans and his seeds all over the area. Oh, my sainted aunt,I can’t escape agoraphobia, Seen a shrink? There’s sink in the toilet But will it flush away? Now be serious.I mean the room What ,where the Inn keeper would not let Mary and Joseph stay? They had no bathrooms then Mine is the cat’s pyjamas Should it be “are”? Grammar is obsolete. It sounds extremely rude.I must be mixing my words You sound like an artist Well,paint while the iron is hot! But you don’t paint with an iron,do you? No, but I can scorch the paper I’d love to scorch the Mail on Sunday Don’t waste your time I didn’t know I had any. Well, keep still.Don’t move Why, is Trump passing? Passing wind maybe Is he a sheep in wolf’s clothing? He’d be a ram, he would believe in God The wolf is only artificial Is it imaginary like a complex number Not that kind of imaginary Do tell Who? The cat’s out of the bag Emile! Yes, mother? Hide! But where? Under a hat I got the hat trick once.I took it off Now keep mum and watch what I do. I want dad Me too Don’t ask for the moon So is he there? Be quiet Michael Gove wants to squeak Where is Rees’ Mogg? Mating with yours This is the absolute end Well, nearly Not angles and not angels. You are around the end