Fifth November Blog.
Oh, thou fallow breeze,
Talk to me of far off places,
Sing me songs of yesterday,
Of strangely comforting
Show me where my history lies,
Carry me to mountain pastures,
Tibetan monks ring twisting gongs
And teach me strength, oh, Lightning masters.
Horsemen on a Gobi plain,
Hunting eagles flying
For the desert foxes there,
Whilst soughing winds are sighing.
Brilliant colours shining brightly,
India’s tigers hunting
For the Samba in the mangrove,
Listening to the chirping Bunting.
Heat and desert fill my nostrils,
Camels ‘cross the sand,
Caravans are swayng gently,
Over all a dry parched land.
‘Til I reach the dense deep forests
Where the buzzard flies above,
Trickling streams down tree-lined hillsides,
Whilst he tracks the fleeting dove.
And the snake winds round the branches,
And ratler stows beneath the shale,
Nesting, laying eggs in darkness,
Feeds on passing mouse with tail.
Wind, now carry dreams aplenty,
To my sleeping, resting form,
Sing me songs to lull my being
‘Til the daybreak brings the dawn.
Copyright Evelyn J. Steward. November, 2015.
I will continue ‘Buried Treasure’ in another post. For today, it is getting used to the change, the chill, as November strikes with deadly force, heralding real winter. Oh, not the full measure, just the start, but certainly not the mild days we all have been enjoying of late.
Also, everyone who celebrates Christmas, is ramping up towards the holiday season. Thinking about what gifts to get for relatives and friends, be they small and personal or exstensive and ostentacious. Not forgetting the reason this holiday is celebrated, for the Faithful.
But not only gifts. We have to think about how we will celebrate, what food we are going to get, liquid refreshment too, all has to be decided. Cannot leave these essentials to the last moment. I do not think there are many households these days who leave these chores until the last minute. ‘Twould be folly indeed. I remember when I was young, ten, rwelve and more, waiting for dad to finish work the day
L before Christmas Eve so that he and I could go on a longish bus ride on Christmas Eve to buy all our fruit and veg. Usually it was frosty cold. We started out early, going to various of the many greengrocers’ stalls where we would perusr what was on offer and prices.
”Ere Govner, try this orange.’ Slices of freezing cold orange, dripping juices, would be shoved in our hands, to try the sweet cold taste. Same with other fruits. We could stamp our feet, trying to wam them, our fingers holding loads of plastic bags full of produce, then clamber onto a, by this time, full bus going back hone. We were loaded but satisfied that in the next few days, we had all we needed ( everything else had lready been bought or ordered and picked up by mum). Now, in our house, we get most goods delivered. How the wirld has changed! But, is it that much better, will these memories stay with todays young, like mine do?
Be extra careful, safety first. And for those of you Stateside, Happy Thanksgiving.