Archive | June 2015

Tenth June Blog


Tenth June Blog.

Just enough time to slot in another June blog.

Lost Emotion.

When Love has forsaken
A world full of woe,
It flies like the wind,
Travelling slow.
When women and men
See no point to their lives,
Just miserable husbands,
Cantakeous wives.
Feelings immortal
Have long passed them by,
They go through the motions,
They grumble and sigh.
Where is the passion
That once nicely flowed,
Where is the love,
Where did it go?
Love resurrection,
What’s needed the most,
A journey together,
As time passes post.
From beginning to end
Love’s circle should be,
Never-the-loss losing
Love ever should see.
For what is the game
Where Love never stays,
Just trouble and travail
To the end of your days.

Copyright Evelyn J. Steward. June, 2015.

Slightly melancholy, I grant you. But then, many poems, and poets, have a sad turn of phrase. They find solace in this type of sadness. And, it has to be said, melancholy often brings forth true feelings, passion, emotion much more than happy times, at least, that is my opinion.

However, there are many who will say that they prefer light-hearted verse. And that is their prerogative. I like all kinds of verse and poems. It just all depends. A poem for me has to have a rhythm, not necessarily rhyming, but an internal rhythm the sets it apart from normal prose. And there are lyrical prose poems that work just as well. My point is though, that sadness creates its own lyricality ( if that is a word?) that takes the reader/listener to some place or time where they are lost in the emotive feeling poured into the poem by the poet.

One of my favourites is “The Lady of. Shallot”. It may not be everone’s ‘cup of tea’, but for me it has that emotive power to take me back in time (whether real or fictional) to the Lady, forced to weave in her tower, just watching the rest of the world go by, through a mirror. That in itself, is sad. She watches a handsome knight. Falls into courtly love which will never come to fruition. Her frustration forces her to leave the safety of the tower, throw caution to the wind, and drift down the river. When her punt is found, she has died, for Love. The knight never knows her ardour. Her gesture is meaningless, but for the reader/ listener, an immortal tale of blind love. The whole poem, though colourful in its descriptions, is full of sadness, anxiety, aloneness, so much that we are caught up in the tale.

Not a short poem. Neither is “The Ancient Mariner”, or “John Gilpin’s Ride”. There will be more can be named, but that is all for now. Of those two, The Ancient Mariner is again, a tale of woe. Misery loves company.

Mostly, my poems tend to be less than sad, though I have been known to go that route, oft times. It is how the mood takes me. For me, poems just ‘come’, or not. Often, I get caught in a particular rut of weather, seasons, etc. i do not like to be sad, but occasionlly, I delve, whatever catches me at that particular time.

If you like to write poetry, then keep at it. There are appreciation groups around. Poetry is not dead.

Everyone is out on a weekend. Do be safe. Have a good one, my friends.



Authors! Your Free Book Is Worthless

I have never thought of giving my work away free, though I do pick up free mysel. But ye,s, I do forget i have them, there are so many.

Tara Sparling writes

Authors! Your Free Book Is Worthless (To People Over 30) You know you want it! Er… hang on. Do you…?

I’ve been wondering about book pricing for a long time. Specifically, whether making your book free makes me bothered about reading it or not.

And I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m not. Bothered, that is.

But before you start weeping and wailing (yes – you in the back, there) this has to be taken in the context of the market demographic to which I belong. And the fact that a clunky, unsophisticated and downright annoying scatter-gun approach to book marketing, which I keep ranting and raving about even though nobody is bloody listening, is yet again way off target.

I said before that books were decreasing in value – and they are, on two levels: both in sales and production.

Firstly, it stands to reason that if you charge me 99c for your book, or make it free, it’s not as valuable to…

View original post 751 more words

Nineth June Blog


Nineth June Blog.


My blackberry stems are full of blossoms. This makes the bumble bees very happy, very industprious. Some of the blooms have gone over and miniature blackberry fruit ( or the partially formed droops, do they call them?) are showing amidst hairy after-blooms. There are also many newly-formed blossoms just opening up. These are of interest to the bees as more fodder for their supplies, once the currently wide open flowers, wilt.

I see blossoms, I see bees, I see lovely juicy ripe and delicious fruits that will, when fully ripe, be popped into my mouth. Mmmmm! The taste is gorgeous. Would that I had lots of bushes of raspberries to go with. Raspberries are my favourites.

Now, I can hear some of you say, well, you wrote about strawberries last time. And you are correct, I did write about luscious dripping bags of strawberries. In the PAST tense. And, it has to be said, I still love strawberries ( though I no longer make jam – sigh!). I usually have a couple every night as part of my pudding of yoghurt, sugar free jelly and fresh fruit. BUT, raspberries ARE MY FAVOURITE, next comes home grown blackberries, ( in the absense of Loganberries, that is). plucked from the vine ( ok stem). Nothing better of a summers day than freshly picked blackberries (and, for that matter, home grown tomatoes – yea, off of the vine this time),

Sadly, no tomatoes this year,though I still have last years seeds that I bought in hopes of planting some. Tough spring! This was not to be. But I have what looks like a bumper crop of blackberries, with very little effort in my part. Nice one!

Berry Fruit.

Summer is the time of harvest,
Fruit growing ripe on the vine,
Bushes of berries grow swollen,
Just before harvesting time.

CurrantsI must give a mention,
Full of Vitamins A and B1,
Iron and all things of quality,,
Tasty to eat, and such fun.

There’s blackcurrants rich in riboflavin,
And pretty redcurrants, and white,
All have different properties,
But really, the taste is just right.

I wish I had rows of fresh raspberries
To ripen well all summer long,
The red and autumnal yellows,
I greet them with joyful song.

Strawberries, all kinds of flavours,
All types of sizes as well.
Juicy, delicious and moresome,
Favourites all, you can tell.

Red is the colour that beckons,
Nature has set them apart,
Vitamin C, in abundance,
Like a strawberry cream fruit tart.

And as for the making of jelly
And jams, full of fruit you can see,
Just cooling down in the bottle,
In time for a Jam aandwich tea.

Copyright. Evelyn J. Steward. June, 2015.

Enough drooling! I can have very little in any case ( too much sugar).

Have a great day, whereve you may be. Be safe.


Shades of Green… (or Favourite Places 4)

I could do with sone peace right now.

Anita Dawes and Jaye Marie

river walk

We wanted to do something different this week. Something we hadn’t done in a while, and someone suggested the river walk.
We hadn’t been back there since we first discovered it several years ago. It is a bit of a hike, three miles or so, there and back, which is probably why we hadn’t returned before now, but it is a lovely walk and we sort of talked ourselves into it.

It was originally a railway line, running through what remains of Liss Forest to the village of Liss itself. Two rivers converge along its length, the Rother and the Blackwater and the area is a nature reserve with several wet meadows and mixed deciduous woodland.
But it is so much more than that.

Because it was a railway line, the walk is slightly higher than the surrounding countryside, so you don’t really feel swamped by the trees, but still…

View original post 188 more words

This entry was posted on June 24, 2015. 2 Comments

Eighth June Blog


Eighth June Blog.

As in previous blog, counting down June,
(though maybe still one or two to go.)

Has anyone noticed how many different eggs are coming onto the market in recent times?

********The picture contains top left Buff Orpingon, top right Leghorn White, bottom left Costwold Legbar and bottom right Burford Brown.*********

Not the kind of blog you usually get, eh?

Well, it is sparked today by a new set of four “try out ” eggs. One egg is a brown Buff (I could be wrong, but I seem to remember an old breed called something like Orpington Buffs. (now to stop and check with Google). YES! Was correctamundo. Buff Orpingtons. OK, so, got one of those.

Anyone remember the cartoons with “Foghorn Leghorn”? (Ok, so Foghorn was a rooster, but you get what I mean). LWell, looks like one of those, a white, and the largest egg of the set of four. Next is an egg which we, in our housr, eat every week, buy none other, a Burford Brown, which, unless you keep your own chickens, we reckon are the best tasting eggs around.

The last egg is a Legbar, somewhat greenish blue in colour. Been around in the posh supermarket for quite a long time ( not my favourite – which I have just disclosed are the Burford Browns. — the duck from the same Company are called Braddock Whites and another good tasting egg -but duck). So, on the whole, if you are a bit conservative about your eggs, buy the same old, same old variety every week, this selection gives you the buyer, a chance to try other varieties. Us, being the triers that we are, are giving them a go. Hope to pass on our views on the three ‘new to us’eggs next time. Am reminded to mention these are not really for cakes or merangues, but for poached, boiled or fried really.

This also brings me to the point, are you triers? Do you stick with the same old foods all the time. We do, until we find something that, in our opinion, cannot get currently beaten for taste mainly, but that also includes cost, availabilty and anything else that made it better in the first place. After a while, food stuffs change, new varieties are placed on the market and that is the time to do a trial and error study. Sometimes things do not work out. Sometimes they are better. The old adage, horses for courses comes to mind. Everyone has different tastes, different views, cost can also be a part of that difference.

We thought we had found the right kind of sausage for our tastes. Then a new variety came on the scene very recently. It was on special, so we tried them, found we liked them, a tad softer than our regular variety. Not for all meals, but for lunch or breakfast. Even though they are now at their normal pricing, it does not matter because that is the same price as our previous choice. We do not eat them that often, so, not a problem.

Just a light blog this time really. Nothing about writing or poetry, just something mundane, ordinary if you will.

Enjoy the summer ( or if you live in the Southern Hemisphere -winter), be happy, be safe.


Seventh June Blog


Seventh June Blog.

All downhill from here!!!

June 21st, in my time zone, the longest day of the year and as such, we must consider that we will no longer be waking up to even earlier days and longer evenings. It all stops with today. Today is it! From now on, the day starts getting just that little bit darker both in the mornings and in the evenings. Towit, we are falling headlong into yet another winter. Seems like we only just came out from one! Hardly any spring, and as yet, not that much summer.

That being the case, why do schools have holidays in July and August, both the 7th and the 8th months of the year, respectively???? I for one, have never fathomed this out. Unless of course. It all started with the Greeks and Romans who all lived in Mediterranean climates? The basic route of most education and naming of things!

I am no deep scolar, but over my immense years on this earth, I have kept my ears and eyes open and picked up a bit of information here and there that suggests that these ancient civilisations set the standards for what we accept now, in this century.

Rightly or wrongly, this is the premise my yearly life decides upon. And dash it all,
22-6-15 is overcast, to quote a famous book ‘The Shape of Things to Come’?

One must say that three afternoons of warm sunshine does NOT, in my humble estimation, constitute a summer!!!

Where are the summers of yesteryear? Did we, indeed, ever have them? Are they a memory myth, located somewhere in the dreamworld of our brains. Can the mind be so cruel as to make us think we had wonderful times way back when ( epecially at my age), (whatever those times, for anyone might be?)? Is it a way for the human mind to let us sink slowly into the abyss, thinking that we have had good times? ( when actually, we may not)? Who knows?

Personally, I cannot remember rainy days, though there must have been plenty of them. I do remember icy winters, where frost made wonderful curling patterns all over the upstairs windows. I even painted aicture based on these patterns at one point, they were so beautiful, cold, but beautufully formed. Chilly days.

Coming home from school, about eight to ten years of age, to a roaring fire, having thick chunky bread, toasted on long toasting forks i. Front of that open fire, with butter and honey. Listening to the radio, a children’s series called ‘Jewels of the Madonna’. Then there was the sci fi radio series ‘Journey Into Space’ ( probably where I got my scfi bug), and another I liked a lot, ‘Dick Bartin: Special Agent’. Heady days!

All I can remember, other than the above, are warm summer days. I know now, that that is not likely. Plants do not grow without rain and I deinitely remembe my teens, early twenties when there were abundant food crops, like strawberries heaped on trays outside the greengrocers, sold by the pound and scooped into brown paper bags. Not like now, where you only buy them in punnets, but heaped, the juices running at the edges of the trays, wasps hovering around, the sun beating warm, drawing out the rich strawberry flavour so that you could smell the fruit several shops away.

These were sold as ‘jamming strawberries’. Obviously more housewives made jam in those days ( the jam was a lot better than shop bought). The berries for eating, Sunday tea and all that, were sold differently. I cannot remember how, but they could have been in baskets. Certainly they were handled more gently. (I mentioned this to my daughter who replief ” how unhygenic!”. Oh, the follies of the young. Won’t eat anything beyond the sell by date. How wpuld they have dealt with a time of no refrigeration??? I digress.

Whereas the loose fruit was sold fast, lots of people queueing to get the topmost, less damaged berries. Going home with paper bags of dripping strawberries that were so aromatic, and somewhat messy, juice dripping from the corners. A wise buyer took other bags with them if planning to purchasr jamming berries. But the scent was so sweet. Not so the strawberries today. Encased in plastic cartons, no hot sun leaching that pungent strawberry flavour, announcing you were the proud owner of berries, later to be cooked into fresh jam. Thoughts of thick Slices of white bread, piled with butter and laced with thick, berry-filled newly made jam. Ohhhhh! Not that I could eat any of that these days, but oh, those summer-filled memories.

It is 23-6-15 and the sun has deigned to show itself, for how long, is anyone’s guess.

Be safe, be as happy and healthy ad you can be.


This entry was posted on June 23, 2015. 2 Comments

Sixth June Blog


Sixth June Blog. 21-6-15.
Longest day of the year, where I live anyway.


White, with touches of silver,
Her hair has a sheen
When brushed.
It flows in the wind,
Like some glittering stream,
Twinkling as the dappled light
Touches strands,
Floating in the breeze,
Like some demented dancer,
Twirling and whirling
To the summer sun’s sound.
She steps gaily,
Light-hearted, demure.
All others belittled
In her presence.
Her regality, in every line,
In every movement.
She walks with measured steps,
Each foot perfectly placed.
Hers is a queenly gait,
Slow, precise, or swift as required.
Her lessons, well learnt,
She moves, gracefully,
Poses, to show each line.
Yet humble.

Copyright Evelyn J. Steward. June, 2015.

The June weather has been kind, this week. So much so that I have been able to get out in the sunshine, sitting by a pile of old branches dumped on my back pathway. Three sessions in the gorgeous sun, ( first day my knees burned), but the third day was best of all. I went out a tad later the usual, and by that time, the shade from the trees had moved around enough to give me some solace. Plus there was a cooling breeze wafting across my bows. Birds trilling in bush and trees, little traffic either vehicular or mammalian, so it was pretty peaceful. There is a heavy traffic road, a few houses away, but that is enough space to silence most of the traffic noise ( and it is always busy, every part of the day). Just the kind of day to spend a tranquil hour cutting up and bagging dead material.

The only problem is that cutting thickish branches and stems really hurts my right wrist. I was wearing a crepe bandage for support too. Hey ho!

I came in, doodled, had lunch, then started on the paper shredder. One of those that kind of chews the paper up, but not quite. After a while, it seizes up and I have to try to get loads of little crinkle strips of paper out of the teeth and rhe top well wher it collects. There really should be a way to easily open the top up to rmove the paper more efficiently. I have wasted hours, trying to remove all the chonked up paper, so that I can once more use the machine for its designated purpose. Ok, I know, safety first. Stop little fingers from getting manglewurzeled. But we are talking adults here! Then I would not get so frustrated. And I have lots more shredding to do. Darn!

Paper Chase.

Too much paper, everywhere.
Trees being felled, they do not care.
Oh, some are newly planted, they say,
Don”t give a damn, just work and play.
Life is for living. It’s all about us.
As long as we’re paid, just what’s all the fuss.
They do not see the havoc it causes,
Raping of Nature, all very plausible.
Thank Heavens not all trees have paperabilities,
Picnics beneath trees enjoyed by families.
Not so, the creatures that live in the woods,
Not so, the animals looking for food.
The common man cannot realise
Without the trees to shade our eyes,
Without so many oxygenating
Trees all around, our air is deflating.
We all depend on this common gas
For our very lives, not observed by the mass.
Rape and plunder in South America,
Asia Minor, wherever you wander.
Woodlands in the North Pacific,
Ripped apart, to be specific.
And yet our city streets, abundant
With scraps of paper, resource redundant.
When will the light dawn heavily
To make human beings see this clearly.
Wrappers round a burger box,
Or countless newspaper, flying stocks.
Too much floating round the world,
We close our eyes, our toes are curled
When forced to witness trees cut down,
It’s out of mind and out of town.

Copyright Evelyn J. Steward. June, 2015.

Have a great day everyone, and don’t forget, be safe out there.


This entry was posted on June 21, 2015. 2 Comments