Knitting and mysticism

By author

Stan was outside polishing the brass doorstep.”My, these microfibre cloths are wonderful” he thought.Mary was out taking a load of stuff to the Oxfam Shop.Suddenly he heard a loud cry., then he felt a pair of hands fondling the top of his bald head. ”Eeh, no rest for the wicked, even at 81,” he screamed.He staggered to his feet and rubbed his knees.”Just give me a hand” , he said,”‘l have to stretch my hamstrings.They tighten up so.” “I’ll stretch them for you!” Annie whispered roguishly.Stan leant forward to touch his toes and she could not resist the temptation to give his bottom a hearty slap. ”For Pete’s sake, Annie” he shouted faintly.”Someone might see that. ””Don’t worry , there’s no-one around at this time of the day” she tittered. “Oh, yes there is!” It was Dave, the paramedic.He had been lying behind the wheelie bins, all three of them standing plaintively in the tiny front garden. ”I’m an MI5 spy, and I’ve been reading your blog, Mr Brown.” “I’m not called Brown” , said Stan nerdishly. ”Refuses to accept reality, “Dave wrote in his little notepad with some blood he had taken from himself earlier, ”Jesus Christ!”, said Stan. ”Now , now, ” said Dave,”that’s not your name, ”No my name is Tan, not Brown, you’ve been reading the wrong blog!” “Stan Tan!” Dave appeared crestfallen, ” Any chairs need mending today?” “My what beautiful ears you have ,sweetheart,” he said to Annie, “They look like sea shells.” “Your eyes are like shallow pools in Lake Windermere during a thunderstorm.”Annie replied womanfully.”Are you still a transvestite?” she faltered incoherently. “No, I had a mystical experience and now I’m a Zen Buddhist” “How did that happen? ” demanded Stan querulously. “Well, I was knitting myself a Shetland lace sweater in pale blue mohair, and I suddenly had the feeling that everything was interwoven.Going forward or backwards, sideways or straight ahead, it is all part of the warp and weft of life.”” Mistakes don’t matter” he continued idly. ”Oh,yes,they do,”Annie said pouting her full lips., coated in cherry pink lipstick by courtesy of L’oreal of Paris and New York,lip balm by Yves St Laurent, peach foundation by Lancome also of Paris,toning smokey grey mascara by Max Factor,handbag Annie’s own,deep burgundy 70 denier tights by M&S, Grey pointed ballet slippers by Bally of Switzerland.[also available in black, red and teal].Raspberry lingerie by M&S. “As I was saying..,” Dave dived back behind the wheelie bin. Stan polished the brass and Annie disappeared in a puff of smoke. It was Mary’s famous imitation of a bicycle bell that had alerted them to her imminent return from the Oxfam shop. “Don’t they make bike bells anymore?” Dave boringly wondered as he carried on reading the new life of Emily Dickinson “A loaded gun.” He thought it was an army training manual but, hey, mistakes don’t matter! Or do they? Read more at your local newsagent

The way into the park

The end of Essex Road, the slope, the gates,

The entrance to the park, the green invites

The swans and geese are wrangling with their mates.

I idle on a bench and contemplate.

In indolence quite diligent I write

The end of that old road, the curve, the gates.

I must embrace this life, enjoy my fate

The scent of hot damp trees, the feel of sight

The swans and geese are mingling with their mates

Oh joy of greeny grass, oh glorious state.

Oh dandelions and weeds, mosquito bites!

I like the way the road slopes through the gates

Oh heaven above, oh,earth beneath, all’s right

The celandines are brilliant with delight

The swans so white are gliding with their mates

The end of this dear road, the curve, the gates.

Jesus saves

Art by Katherine

Some wondered in which Bank the Saviour saved

I spent my adult life in puzzles mazed

No more to play in parks or climb green hills Wondering was it true that Jesus saves.

On green hills, the Herdwick sheep would graze

While in the town, the people swallowed pills

I spent my adult life in puzzles mazed

On the sunny side,old people prayed

For pensions were too small to pay the bills;

Some wondered in which Bank the Saviour saved

I may have been obsessive in my ways

Keeping my accounts was quite a drill

I spent my entire life in puzzles mazed

How many sins.such thoughts would prey

Of self torture,I have had my fill Wondering is it true that Jesus saves

Jerusalem upon its rocky hill Cannot show but maybe it can tell

I spent my adult life in puzzles mazed

Wondering if it’s true that Jesus saves.