Hey!

Hey! Some of you are discovering Yack, I don’t just mean this blog but those pages which you will find listed Yack 1-4. They are just a little compilation of stories and yarns mostly of disasters and mis-haps with a little bit of humor and pathos chucked in, maybe they don’t amount to much but at least they are true, I swear on my dead dog’s life they are. See if Grumma can add a smile to your day as she gets chased around the yard by a headless chicken, or Percy as he declares war on the local cat population or gets stuck up a ladder, then there’s the day I got chased by a billy goat and my time as a schoolie on work experience.

 

 

 

Come 'ere you!

 

 

Check out my new bloggy blog  The Rhyming Yack  I love you I wanna press my love against you with my poetry. See?  http://gentledove2.wordpress.com

 

Magpie and tinselstruck

Magpie and tinselstruck

Magpie and tinselstruck

will hike your silver too

someone who seeks your downfall

will watch everything you do

and all your heart be precious

thoughts beautiful pursuing

Mr Goodlooks will not distinguish

the gentleness you are doing.

I walked into a garden

where the lilacs never fade

and fragrant rose is always in flower

beneath the willow shade.

Middled in that garden

was a fountain of cascading jewels

which fell to the ground as petals

colours  breathtaking, and their pastels.

There go the ships!

the waves give way before them

iron-clad dreams, some left behind

tide and time will turn them.

Call for the interpreter

to make you understand

and help explain what the picture means

how that noble is contrast by bland.

Winchester hat fair

Fancy a bit of English summer fun? check out

http://gentledove2.wordpress.com/winchester-hatfair-elf-shot

There is a youtube link and cheery articles about Winchester’s famous hat fair, it started out as a busking event with the hat being passed around [naturally] hence the name but it has developed over the years as Britain’s longest running street fair held every year over the 1st week-end of July. Come and get a taste of the fun. Oh and there is a powem from ME.

Winchester hat fair

 

 

Myrrh maid

An extract from “Love pictures”

http://gentledove2.wordpress.com/love-change

*

She is a myrrh maid

with scented fingers

and wherever she has been

her fragrance lingers.

She is in fashion

modelling T shirts

she can make you fall in love

until it hurts

*

She is a dancer

moving with rhythm

and wherever she has stayed

folk started singing.

She plays piano

beautiful music

she will make you fall in love

until you ache.

Cookie deleted

 

Cookie deleted

 

 

Pick a poppy thunderstruck

when it’s petals fall

your table space will empty be

if you don’t hear your good wife call

*

He did not believe in omens

until his own came true

this warning is for many

and not for just a few.

*

I went down to the post office

to buy a book of stamps

but I was in a book store

queuing on the ramp

*

They tell me life is changing

things are not the same

whichever party is in power

will have to take the blame.

*

But the changes my dad sees

are down at the town hall

with bribery and corruption

which no-one minds at all.

*

Of such affairs I know little

but what I do find spooky

is that no-one raised the question

of who deleted Cookie?

Le langage des fleurs

 *

**

*

A red carnation

worn upon my heart

will promise that I love you,

we shall never part.

*

**

*

But a daisy in my hair

will warn you, I am thinking,

don’t take too much for granted,

the amber light is blinking.

*

**

*

Ah! if you see a tulip

turned to upside down,

you have been rejected,

your advance will earn a frown.

*

**

*

Mulled wine winter

cheer, heartwarming,

but little sis yearns for catkin

of the early Spring.

*

**

*

She longs to dance with daffodils

gelanthus is her friend,

when the snow is melted

and winter is at an end.

*

**

*

an extract from Damson jam

http://gentledove2.wordpress.com/damson-jam

Her apple

An extract from ”A bowl of cherries”

http://gentledove2.wordpress.com/a-bowl-of-cherries

Her apple

My rhymes will keep you company

until your journey ends

you and I are passengers

we might as well be friends.

I went down to the market place

to see what I could buy,

and as I looked a little girl

just happed to catch my eye.

As she trailed behind her mum

a shiny red apple, I saw,

before her very nose had come,

whose apple in the world could it be

that it should plumb so level?

by any law that she could see

it belonged to her [and she had it]

I will fill your lap with roses

to fragrance your sojourn

pure white petalled, velvet reds

just be careful with my thorn.

Charlotte

Charlotte breathes the morning

honeysuckle on the fence.

Touched in shades of softness

fragrant confidence.

The sun has kissed her hair,

early breezes blush her cheek.

She walks in gentleness,

willows bow down to hear her speak,

honesty, settled as heaven’s dew,

her smile is slow but worth the waiting,

she expects the same of you.

*

picture by kind permission http://flickr.com/people/frommike

I heard a young boy singing

The following is an extract from “A turgid stem”

*

I HEARD A YOUNG BOY SINGING

*

The man in the market shouts his wares

“wisdom for sale, wisdom for sale…”

“how strange” say you

“in what amounts? show me your scale”

you can’t buy wisdom at any price

bring all your cash, write out a cheque,

folly can be had at the throw of the dice.

I heard a young boy singing

his music filled the air

and though he sang a sad song

when he saw me standing there

he smiled at me and I smiled back

and took him home with me.

Splash my garden with marigolds

garnish my dish with it’s herbs

I’ll take my walk down country lanes

which never yet had kerbs.

*

“A turgid stem” http://gentledove2.wordpress.com/the-turgid-stem click

Fact heard blackbird

The following is an extract from “A turgid stem.”

*

“What?!  is that it?” say you

“are you done so soon?”

my dear we are only part way there

we haven’t reached the moon

There is that fellow in feathers

have you in fact heard?

did you really listen?

to the song of the blackbird

as he lilts the morning air

such a pretty little etude.

he begins, soft velvet, and then

it must be a bawd, he becomes quite rude

and pips a little pip to crown

his musical rendition.

*

“A turgid stem” http://gentledove2.wordpress.com/the-turgid-stem

Check this out

In the bleak mid winter, I have retained the1st and 4th stanzas with part of the 2nd of Christina Georgina Rossetti’s beautiful christmas carol [pictured above] is Corrinne May-or is it…SULZ-as she sing C.G.R.’s original. http://gentledove.wordpress.com/in-the-bleak-mid-winter

Annnd…The late Robin Cook former British foreign secretary was he murdered?  http://gentledove.wordpress.com/interviews-was-robin-cook-murdered  

Evening bells [Winchester cathedral]

As I write these lines the peals of Winchester cathedral being carried on the summer evening breeze are flooding my home through the opened windows, this poem is very fresh and unedited. 

Evening bells, chime

melancholy sweet

a happy mellow 

is it a prayer? is it a prayer?

wrapping as with a mantle

a father’s loving care.

*

Changing times toned

a long ago joy

with melody memory [thanks]

is it a prayer? is it a prayer?

people have loved me

some still do, some are gone [where?]

*

Changeless yet changing

I have not changed 

I need to be loved, hold hands

is it a prayer? 

touch me with kindness

just let me share.

*

I just want to share.

Guinevere’s bed

A poem based upon Merlin’s advice to King Arthur not to marry Guinevere, warning him that she would prove unfaithful bringing Camelot to ruin. 

 

Shall a pale shadow,

and she a ghost, a phantom

cost so valiant a king,

whose heart will hold by the promise,

and break it with beguiling.

She will betray you with her kiss.

*

Arms that will hold you,

eyes that have encaptured your own,

in another’s arms entwined

making warm with passion the place,

where is no promise to bind,

sweetly dying in the embrace.

*

Chivalry begone,

with chasing from the kingdom,

Camlan’s field will be the site.

The question Guinevere shall pose,

wild the cherry she will bite,

will bitter you too in the throes.

*

Was it  Caliburn

taken up for the kingdom

that had brought the victory?

or was it honour which prevailed?

the true cause we may now see,

then cast away the sword that failed.

*

Oh Valiant heart!

will be for a shadow pale

pierced through with lady’s arrow,

when she has made you cuckold

then Albion’s race shall know

for Guinevere’s bed were they sold.

*

Mist that lays across

not only lake but the realm

now veils from our eye the view, 

that noble, which made you great.

 Then find your strength in virtue

victory shall not be late. 

The wanting mile

 http://gentledove2.wordpress.com/a-complete-poem-index

One more mile

 With such care as those chosen delights

satisfying as a summer breeze

where it lifts, there remains

or scurrying across the ground

here is one that flew against the flow

with ebbing strength the strivings slow

*

Wafted high above the murmured seethe

couched in prose while preparing to leap

beyond the stifled dream

carrying yet that weighted trope

this was the pattern hard to discern

perhaps another year will learn

*

When men wary of unseasoned change

turn once more inward shall find

the door they opened, closed

the secret searching was for rest

the silver thread when pulled has revealed

golden sunshine upon the field

*

For here indeed destination reached

the prized rejoicing all triumphant

yet all that went before

were the bricks to be builded with

the wearying, waiting, wanting mile

was the joy of enjoying the while

*

 

With especial dedication to Linda Lien whose post inspired the original thought behind the poem.[Linda of course is Shoreacres]

http://shoreacres.wordpress.com/2008/07/27/watching-the-blogometer-roll

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Put on your costume [Vesti la giubba]

Poor Pagliaccio the show must go on for he is a clown but as he prepares to put on his make up he knows that his arch rival Harlequin is stealing away his beloved Colombina.

 I must act, while out of my mind

I no longer know what I am saying

or what I am doing

but there is no other choice

pull yourself together

bah! can’t you be a man?

you are Pagliaccio

*

Put on your costume

powder your face

the people have paid to come

and they want to laugh

what if Harlequin is stealing your Colombina

laugh Pagliaccio, make the crowd to cheer

turn your heartbreak and tears into a joke

your pain and crying into a funny face

laugh Pagliaccio

at your broken heart

laugh at the grief that poisons your mind.

*

How tempting it was to upload Pavarotti’s superb live performance from the opera but well in perusing I came across this performance by a young Mario del Monaco.

 

None shall sleep (Nessun dorma)

This my paraphrase of the english translation of the famous aria from Puccini’s Turnadot.

The emperor has declared that the name of his daughter’s [the cold princess Turnadot] suitor must be discovered by dawn or all shall die.

None shall sleep

none shall sleep

not even you princess

in your cold room

watching the stars

each trembling with love and hope

but my secret stays hidden within me

no-one shall know my name

But, but

To your lips I,ll reveal it when morning comes

what splendour

for my kiss will break the silence that makes you mine

the people sing

(no-one will know his name and we alas must die)

begone the night

behind the mountains stars

behind the mountains stars

at dawn I shall win. 

Franco Corelli sings live from the opera

*

Check out Pavarotti’s live performance from the opera “Che gelida manina” with translation http://gentledove2.wordpress.com

*

http://gentledove2.wordpress.com/a-complete-poem-index

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Anemone, Anemone

Anemone, an enemy

no, not to anyone

perfect in beauty orient

she gives no scent, nor sentiment

*

See no laying, ever swaying

no inclination shows

yet leaning ever to that fair

her wisdom, lacking, makes more rare

*

Pretty though careless in the wind

she ought not stand apart

but with fellows the much rather

in their pastels, there they gather

*

No connoisseur would be without

her gentle loveliness

with such sensuous flagrance she

makes herself a must that must be.

Leafwind changing

Leafwind changing

I’ve seen the wind in the trees

the leaves clap their hands

yes they clap their hands

rejoicing in the breeze.

*

  I hear the wind in the night

when no eye can see

it’s too dark to see

whispering out of sight

*

I watch seasons of the year

and it’s moving on

always moving on

it’s your life, hold it dear

*

I see the leaves on the ground

time for them has turned

yes the time has turned

they lay they make no sound

*

Treasure in the hands of one

with eyes that can see

a child’s eye can see

wonder in what’s been done.

*

In the deep of the winter

trees are plain and bare

no leaves, plain and bare

come spring’s loving tinter

*

So lovely the shelter shade

blackbird finds her home

all birds make their home

such beauty God has made.

Blackbird nest

Seer silenced Sage

 

Deep calls through the shallowing ripples

purpled shades of mystery hue

who can answer or with strength respond

and with reason say what is true?

*

The clement of yesteryears is past

though not many have understood

what the cutting asunder must bring

to the vacuum where violence would

*

There comes a reddening in the ground

mere word nor intent can constrain

for the age is borne ‘pon angry wings

on high where no man can restrain

*

Neither glance back or yet look ahead

wisdom given was not recieved

not the sage nor yet the seer spoke true

 the vision that was first concieved

*

Spread out upon the ground up yonder

water poured out, will it be gathered?

or the shadows bring any comforting light?

substance is gone as men rathered.

*

http://gentledove.wordpress.com/a-complete-poem-index

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Melody Man

Melody man

MELODY MAN

*

Melody man lilt me a tune

what can you see today?

pushchair baby a toy balloon

it’s the people that you play

*

Marching down military man

past the women huddle

play the music I know you can

pick out notes from the muddle

*

Finger and play, hand skilled weaving

you take my breath away

melody box all believing

everything you have to say

*

Gypsy the waltz, tipsing polka

set the street swaying scene

catch the runner, stay the walker

play the magic that they mean

*

Oh melody man lilt a tune

I’m hearing what you see

uptown motion changing so soon

all dance to your symphony.

*

Someone somewhere [but I can't find it now] commented that Melody Man looks like the little prince, I didn’t know who was the little prince so I checked it out, he’s a little boy but the facial expression is similar. Melody Man is based on a real person and all attempts by me to draw a good likeness failed I,m afraid. But Melody Man [my name for him] is another of Winchester’s more illustrious characters,street busker Frank Williams, I have often seen how he watches people as they parade by and something in their walk or behaviour catches his eye and he will change the tune he is playing to suit.    

The Water Meadows [Winchester]

 

Flowering down the meadow view

grass lush and head swayed poppies.

Dong a song the distant church bell,

the butterfly’s aimless purpose pursue

along corridors of change wind breeze.

*

Hummed stillness across the water pond,

frenzied the wingéd dancers.

Buttercups made golden in the sunshine

peek’a'boo playing among the trees beyond,

which also hide squirrel from casual glancers.

*

Heavenly scented layering on the air,

unmoved as yet by the sparrow wing,

all bathed in the summer evening glow,

beauty of nature the water meadows share,

with no one and with all and with everything.

*

Closing the day down clouds come veiling

the last pipes of the rude blackbird rising.

It has been a day of shouts and laughter,

but now the velvet quietude is prevailing

the approaching shadows of nightfall advising.

Rollerskate lovers

Top of page http://gentledove.wordpress.com

http://gentledove2.wordpress.com/a-complete-poem-index

 

Rollerskate lovers

Here is a little poem wot I wrote after a lovely afternoon whizzing around Hyde park and Kensington gardens with my boyfriend

ROLLERSKATE LOVERS

*

Glide me down swiftly, so  fleet

choosing this path takes me into your arms

gentle the arc I draw

twice two the figure eight

round and round I’m a carousel

hold me tight, no alarms

*

Look at me! slicing the breeze

darling, my coming is only for you

The wind brushes my face

sunshine plays in my hair

racing, the beat of my heart

I’m alive! everything’s new!

*

Avenues of trees slide by

for the moment you are lost to my view

so wheel the wheel backward

you are still out of my sight

turn the full circle, where are you?

with eyes for me so true

*

Look there! our tryst, we shall meet

our paths love will cross once more, you and I

nothing can stop us now

joyful collision sure

 hand holding hand, happily we

my head on your shoulder I sigh.

*

Listen to Hayley Westenra sing Scarborough fayre on my page with that name, I promise you she will blow you away

THE CHESTNUT TREE (tomorrow I am free)

“….from my favourite spot on the floor I look up at the blue sky and the bare chestnut tree on whose branches little raindrops shine, appearing like silver, and at the seagulls and other birds as they glide on the wind….as long as this exists, I thought, and I may live to see it, this sunshine, the cloudless sky, while this lasts I cannot be unhappy….” Anne Frank 23.2.44

I hope my little poem honours Anne.

*

This my chosen spot

I may lay me down

gaze can only upward be

filled afresh with hope

that grew upon my chestnut tree

tomorrow I am free

*

No clouds in my sky

nor shadow troub’ling me

gracefully glides the seagulls

silvering droplets

sparkling on my chestnut tree

tomorrow I am free

*

As long as this is so

and if my eyes may see

my heart cannot then be sad

for me the sun shines

through my glistening chestnut tree

tomorrow I am free.

*

© The Totton linnet- may be used for non-profit

Be pleased to visit my Anne frank page “thanks Anne”

Also be sure to read my awesome froggy ditties on this page and check out the resource links under OL’ NELL’S LAST CROAK for knowledge packed links about [ribbit] FROGGIES 

Wookey hole

AN OLD ENGLISH TALE

Warty witch

“A young maiden of wookey is betrothed to marry a handsome prince from Glastonbury, however a witch having herself been ill used and treated unfaithfully in her youth takes her spite by spoiling other young couples dreams of romance, she puts a curse upon this affair so that it fails causing much pain and sorrow to the young lovers.

The prince turns to the church for solace and becomes a monk, he pledges himself to put an end to the witches sorcery and malice. He pursues her into a cave at Wookey where she hides in a dark corner.

The monk blesses an underground stream running through the cave and proceeds to splash the now holy water into all corners of the cave, including the corner where the witch is hiding, as soon as the water comes upon her she becomes petrified and remains in the cave thus to this very day.”

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wookey Hole Caves 

Check out my yack page, Y R U still here?>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The Venerable Bede

BEDE (a.d. 672-735)

Bede was born in the year 672 at present day Wearmouth and Jarrow Northumbria. He was educated by the most reverend Abbot Benedict and Coelfrid. At age 19 he was admitted to the diaconate and was consecrated a priest at the age of 30.

His whole life was spent at the monastry in Jarrow, Northumbria. He became known as the venerable Bede within a 100 years of his death in 735 aged 62.

Bede is most famous for his Ecclesiastical history of the English people a work acknowledged by scholars of every age as the basis for all that is known of earliest British history, he was indeed the first to write such a history. Although as the title would suggest it is a work concerned with church affairs rather than secular it still furnishes us with valuable insight and knowledge pertaining to Anglo Saxon and British history which is vital and unique.

http://orthodoxwiki.org/Bede

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bede

http://www.postroman.info/bede.htm

*

O.K. peoples so now my bloggy blog has gotten all mixed up and disorganised. I had posted Bede as a separate page but WP decided it should be here with my poems and froggy rhymes so here it is, check out the links and stuff and be sure to check out my other history pages [you know how you love history] complete with resource links. page index on the right, right? stay bright. 

Shamrock shores by The Horslips. youtube link

 

 HEY PEEPS KEEP UP TO DATE WITH MY PAGES THEY ARE EXTRAORDINARY>>>>>>

*Clickety click

http://ie.youtube.com/watch?v=PYS-4Ql-vUI

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http://gentledove2.wordpress.com/a-complete-poem-index 

  

Hello

Hello, welcome to my blog

if you are not having a good day

I hope it soon gets better.

Gentledove.

*

If you love frogs [and you know you do,] be sure to check out my links under “Ol’ Nell’s last croak” for a wealth of knowledge and stuff about our green soggy little friends ribbit

 

Ol’ Nells last croak

She were a good old soul her

they simply don’t come better

I was squatting there by her side

when an owl came and ate her

+

She would be first to leap to your aid

shared her gnats with the needy

it’s kind of ironic she should fall prey

to an owl who was just plain greedy

+

There was no time to say good bye

nor even a chance to kiss her

e’re fate swooped down from the sky

boy I’m going to miss her

+

She was the best old croak in town

for gossip there was no-one better

I was squat there by her side

when an owl came and ate her.

*

© The totton linnet

Right check out these amazing links….NOW!

and find an amazing wealth of knowledge about FROGS

http://tadpolediary.wordpress.com

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frog

http://bbc.co.uk/nature/wildfacts/factfiles/483.shtml

http://www.nzfrogs.org/resourced/Kids+Information/KeepingFrogs.html

Freddy the flying frog, not

A frog is not a butterfly

but oh if I had wings

I’d squabble with the sparra’s

and do amazing things

+

O’er the housetops I would soar

the kids will all point at me

“a bird with a shiny green jacket”

they would shout with glee

+

With wind beneath  keeping me aloft

over dales and fields and streams

the earth below, my! what a view!

hovering, me, fulfilling my dreams

+ 

But diving from my lilypad

is the closest I will get

to that feeling of heady euphoria

whims I might just as well forget .

*

© The Totton linnet

Mr. President

A frog is not a pretty thing

his talents are not many

he cannot dance he does not sing

and gags he knows not any

yet a frog may make president

and if you think that it’s a joke

next time we’re in a crisis

turn on the telly, you will hear  him croak