March 2015 – Boadicea's Chariot

Time and place

Originally I wrote this as a joke back back in the seventies, I had no idea that is might turn out still to be a bit closer to the truth than I had imagined, all these years later

“The time has come to end it all”
he said on looking down.
I’ll leap from this ledge fifty one floors up
Then blackness all around”
In passing by the thirteenth floor
A man leapt into space
A man of dark and flowing locks
A beard upon his face
A man who falling caught him up
And caught him by the ears
And yelled “This is a hijack man
Fly me to Algiers”

Just a Friendly Reminder

Dear Charioteers,
as March draws to its close I’d like to take the chance
to remind all of you that on the evening of 8 April I will, from London,
announce the winner of the poetry contest.

A Bad Place!

A muddled jumble gath’ring dust
And cobweb littered spaces.
A storage place of scattered things,
And half remembered faces.

Continue reading “A Bad Place!”

What I did on my holiday

Halfway through planning this year’s holiday, I realised I hadn’t yet put up a blog about last year’s, which caused enough ructions. These went from my cousin’s son-in-law’s “They’re going where? Are they mad?” to daughter’s conviction that Putin’s thugs would be trying to shoot us out of the sky.

On arrival we were greeted by this lady:

Though she has a sword in her right hand to deal with enemies, she holds a cup of wine in her left to welcome friends – the Mother of Georgia. Continue reading “What I did on my holiday”

Reminder, Dahlinks!

This is just a friendly note to remind everyone that I will be in the United Kingdom next month, including wild and woolly Wales. From 8-10 in London, 10-13 in Christchurch and 13-15 in Cardiff, paying homage to Dame Shirley Bassey, parenthetically before going off to Ireland — the Republic and Ulster — for a week.

All written on location

Now, where is this located?
Although I’m not sure where
And although I’ve never met you,
I know you’ve all been there.

It’s colour scheme? Unusual.
From pinks to deepest blues
And although it has no windows
It offers lots of views.

It has no grounds or gardens
But gardeners here abound
And their horticultural influence
Is spread the world around.

Inside, the depth of learning
Is plain where ‘ere you look
But within its confines
You’ll not find a single book.

So where is this located?
If you don’t know quite where
Here is a simple anagram
Solve this: Dice boot as chair

March Picture Challenge – FOOD.

It was going to be Spring but there is no sign of that around here, not much food for the wildlife either after a long hard Winter. Even a dead catfish washed up by the ice eater looks pretty good to the hungry.
But approach with caution, it could be a trick…

Closing March 31, 2015 somewhere about 36 N 75 W.

Pome for March

Sorry, Chris, it is a bit scatological but here goes anyway…….

Guess where I am!

We all go in there from the street

When we feel we need to pee

We very rarely have to queue

Unless we’re a lady!
Continue reading “Pome for March”

March Poetry Competition

Today I received a second series of immunisations – two injections, one on each arm. My new GP, a no-nonsense German woman of some academic distinction, instructed me to return twice more before I fly off to the UK next month. My former GP has refused to forward my immunisations record to her. For the sake of keeping all records together and ensuring that I am prepared for the world’s nastiest diseases, I am to receive all regular immunisations again. I am, as a result, a human pincushion with more holes in his skin than a Glasgow junkie on the Sunday morning after his dole cheque was cashed.

Continue reading “March Poetry Competition”

Is this Japanese Knotwood? Number 1

You have to understand that I am going to be a 65 year old horticultural virgin in a week’s time.

My first memory of a garden was in Singapore where we all lounged as others laboured. Back to Caledonia (stern and wild) in due course. I remember a Rowan tree and lots of grass but I have no recollection of other growing stuff requiring cultivation. I was still too young for conscription into Mum’s garden task force. Continue reading “Is this Japanese Knotwood? Number 1”