Stan’s briefcase

1 september and late August 2011 069Stan was   in the dining room looking for an aged briefcase  with his autobiography in it while Emile sat on an old TV set in the window.looking at birds.Mary was in the garden  wearing an ancient  yet trendy  denim dress planting some trailing rosemary,lavender and sage in a small bed near the French window..She had decided that her salvation lay in the soil though what form it would take was not yet clear ;suddenly she heard a harsh cry.It was her neighbor telling off his dog,Emmanuel.Come,now ,he shouted.

Hail,Mary,he called.Can you spare a  big  potato?

Probably,she muttered peevishly without looking up.

I am making sausage boulangere, he  informed her.But I  use turkey sausages as I am a Jewish Hindu.semi vegetarian.

i am not interested in religion,she told him kindly.I believe one can worship God ,if there is  one, somewhere like a wood.

Dr Caskett

I like being on a group ,he told her thoughtlessly..

Well ,go and be in one she saidt naughtily.Do you like sex in a group?I am a mathematician and we  study rings and groups but only in symbols as maths is like life with all the sensuality removed,if you catch my meaning,she ended artlessly.

Stan appeared at the door.I have just made the tea ,.he called.Hi Brian, how are you?i  Why are you wearing a dress today?Are you changing gender?

No,said Brian,I am a mere transvestite especially in the summer.You should try on a dress,they are more comfy in the heat!

???????

Well,maybe I will said Stan with sang froid.But it makes more ironing…

They all sat down at the kitchen table and ate some delicious scones  San had just baked and also  they drank PG tips tea with milk and sugar as that is what the English  most like to do apart from getting drunk.

Where is that lady Annie who lives next to you,asked Brian pensively..I like her bright clothes and her vivid lipstick.Is she single,he enquired  in a faux naive manner.

Well, perhaps but she is my mistress, said Stan defensively.

Aha,aha,laughed Brian as he eyed the shrunken old man.

Now then,said Mary,leave him alone.He is like a magnet,women flock to him..

Now don’t exaggerate,Stan said shyly.I’ve not had that many.

I see said Brian.I’d love to hear more….. you’ll have to come to the pub and tell me the details.

Not flamin’ likely,thought Stan. ,as he examined his  cracked leather briefcase with real brass buckles,backstraps and front  pocket, a bargain at £3and ten shillings in 1949.Hurry as not many are left.

All of a sudden ,he fell off his chair which broke into fragments..Brian was awed.I’ve never seen a chair break up like that he cried.

Well,ring 999 said Mary, a paramedic can fix it

10a3b-dscf0446

In that silence

Sparrows
Sparrows (Photo credit: Sergey Yeliseev)
sparrow
sparrow (Photo credit: Hitched Hiker)Please will you ignore the links.I shall remove them but my hands are painful today,Thank yoIn that silence, I heard sparrows chirpingIn that silence, I heard sparrows chirping

In the still green hedge.
I saw the lake and your reflection
And my reflection.;
and did the sparrows see
as the sun shone slantside
over the steeply falling bank?
Dd they see this natural mirror?
And my mind’s mirror
gave me new reflections
in the reverie
Of the dreaming evening,
As I slid slowly down
Into soft slumber;
Trusting the life within,
Trusting you;
Trusting myself;
and in my reflections
I see you too,
smiling in welcome;
smiling the beautiful smile,the true smile of love itself.
The embrace of the dreaming world
comforts
and holds us
as we breathe gently
in the sweet air
of love.

Repeat

In the still green hedge.
I saw the lake and your reflection
And my reflection.;
and did the sparrows see
as the sun shone slantside
over the steeply falling bank?
Dd they see this natural mirror?
And my mind’s mirror
gave me new reflections
in the reverie
Of the dreaming evening,
As I slid slowly down
Into soft slumber;
Trusting the life within,
Trusting you;
Trusting myself;
and in my reflections
I see you too,
smiling in welcome;
smiling the beautiful smile,the true smile of love itself.
The embrace of the dreaming world
comforts
and holds us
as we breathe gently
in the sweet air
of love.

I

The garden we shared

It reminds me of an East Anglian landscape
This garden’s flat planes of grass give the illusion
Of greater distance,the eye travels down them
To the trees rising at the end.
On this scene my mind superimposes
Other ideas of summer days in hot places
In flat fields stretching on either
Side down to the sea.
My eye enjoys the shape,the flatness
The form,a symbol for so many other gardens
And summer journeys on unknown lanes
Across new landscapes ,delighting in them,
In the space extending,and the trees
A gentle contradiction to the horizontal meadows.
In summer in recent years,what I remember
Is the sun across these long,flat shapes.
Looking at this small garden,I remember
So many things,my eye sees through
What is here,to far beyond
What has passed and what is to come
All  afd contained here.

THE SONG OF EACH GARDEN

Image

 

Every garden has a song,

a song beyond all words.

sit in silence there to hear

cheeps from distant birds.

 

Every garden has its silence,

special to that place

stand beneath the maple tree,

gaze up the crown’s wide space.

 

Every garden’s a part of all,

linked through heart of earth

stand in one, you ‘re inside all,

your spirit takes new birth,

 

Every garden can’t help but sing,

green calls out so sweet,

shows us Eden, long ago,

as Adam kissed Eve’s dear feet.

 

I gaze up through bare winter trees,

the song is softer now.

No golden finch,no sparrow cheeps.

It’s buried in the snow.

Deep in dark ,life sparks again

and the green shoots come.

so we wait in harmony

till our garden sings out then

A cat sings for you

Emile is a talking cat who lives with Stan and Mary and features in many stories

Emile’s garden

Source: Kathryn
Source: Kathryn

Emile’s song

Fish,fish wonderful fish…

Nothing so tasty gets onto my dish.
I live on Whiskas and milk and cold tea.
They don’t know I drink it to help me to pee.
Milk,milk,I love it well.
Mother‘s was best,but,oh,what the hell!
I drink it at night,to send me to sleep.
I feel so nervous when Stan’s old sheep bleats.
I sleep with Stan and he’s very kind.
I lean on his legs to help me unwind.
When he’s got company,I stay outside.
I look through a mirror and blimey,I spied
Stan was cuddling a lady who was totally nude!
You would not believe the weird sights I have viewed.
He was quite naked but I’m used to that.
He has no bosom…………..men are quite flat!
Mice,mice,mice are so nice!
Mince the left overs and serve with boiled rice!
Do you need puddings…we never do.
Some cats like chewing their master’s old shoe!
Drink,drink let me imbibe

Nothing quite like it for aiding a Scribe!