Cinderella

The Day I Met Cinderella

The day I met Cinderella we went shopping.

First we went to the shoe shop.
I just bought sandles but Cinderella bought
tiny golden slippers.

Next we went to the clothes shop.
I bought some jeans but Cinderella bought
a beautiful blue dress.

After that we went to the Gardening Centre.
I bought some flowers but Cinderella bought
a bright orange pumpkin.

When we had lunch Cinderella ran away.
I asked where she was going and she replied,
"It's just too late"

I asked her again the next day.
She was daydreaming and sighed,
"He's just so handsome."

Then I knew where Cinderella had gone.

CN3 Age 8yrs

My daughter loves to copy me. She is fascinated when she sees me scribbling or tapping away on my laptop. She has endless little books of poems, prayers and stories that she leaves all over the house -started but not finished (again like me). This is one of her latest poems that I promised to post for her. Then she will be really like mummy!

Summer Villanelle

This lovely late summer painting from:

http://belladia.typepad.com/bella_dia/i_like_to_make_things/

After that dark and somewhat depressing villanelle of mine yesterday here is an antidote. 'Summer Villanelle' by Wendy Cope is light, breezy and sunny. This is from 'Poem for the Day One'. She wrote on a hot Saturday afternoon instead of going to do a Sainsbury's shop - a woman after my own heart! Read in the garden with a large glass of Pimms and lemonade.

Summer Villanelle

You know exactly what to do -

Your kiss your fingers, on my thigh -

I think of little else but you.

It's bliss to have a lover who,

Touching one shoulder, makes me sigh -

You know exactly what to do.

You make me happy through and through,

The way the sun lights up the sky-

I think of little else but you.

I hardly sleep - an hour or two;

I can't eat much and this is why-

You know exactly what to do.

The movie in my mind is blue -

As June runs into warm July

I think of little else but you.

But is it love? And is it true?

Who cares? This much I can't deny;

You know exactly what to do;

I think of little else but you.

Wendy Cope

The Villain Elle

Image fromLIFE

The Addict

He sits alone amid the mangled sheet,

pale corpse of himself, eyes shot red;

awake for days without the need for sleep.

Awaits the last sharp fix to come and sweep

from him the hell inside his head.

He bleeds alone amid the mangled sheet,

the tracks leave scars and the wounds run deep.

Shoots again the pain that keeps him spread

awake for days without the need for sleep.

He weeps inside the tears he can't secrete.

Syringes, puke and filth surround the bed;

he shits alone amid the mangled sheet.

No friends, no dreams venture down his street,

just endless hours and fear of that dread

awake for days without the need for sleep.

Highs, lows, rushes, shakes - incomplete

snapped life hung by a single thread.

He dies alone amid the mangled sheet,

awake for days but now its time for sleep.

Suzi

My first attempt at a Villanelle or a 'Villain Elle' as Nicky in my writing class calls them (can you guess she's not a fan!). Very tricky, both in following a set form and finding suitable subject matter. Where on earth this came from I do not know - it's not from personal experience. I apologise for the depressing topic, no light little ditty's from me.

One of those days

Yes, today was one of those days! Nothing went to plan. I was hot and frazzled and tired and although I was running myself silly trying to do all sorts I felt like I was hitting my head against a brick wall -ouchhh! A bit like this antelope below. Maybe the lesson is to slow down?

By the way my kids love this clip, it is so their sense of humour.

Photos from The Hurst

Here finally are some more of the photos from my Arvon poetry week at The Hurst in Shropshire. It has taken me so long to post them. Thank you Clive for sending me some of yours.