How did I miss World Poetry Day?
Here is an absolute gem from Brian Bilston to celebrate.
I love the colour of the anemone blanda.
anemone blanda
Such a lovely surprise today – Our eldest daughter came to visit – work problems last weekend meant she couldn’t be here for Mother’s Day so she’s been here today, brought lunch and cooked dinner. What a treat to have her company for the day.
The poet, Brian Bilston has very kindly given me permission to share his clever poem, “At The Intersection” which amused me greatly. He introduces it thus: “The mathematician John Venn was born on this day in 1834. To commemorate the occasion, here’s a poem in the form of a Venn diagram.” I hope it makes you chuckle too.
I made a Lemon, Cinnamon and Blueberry Cake today which is very tasty but all the blueberries have sunk to the bottom, again. Perhaps that’s what blueberries do! I’m guessing the volunteers tomorrow won’t mind.
Here’s a poem in commemoration of D-Day, which took place eighty years ago today. The poet, Brian Bilston, whom we saw in performance in May, has very kindly given me permission to post it here for you all. I found it very moving indeed.
Thanks, Brian.
I was in Truro Cathedral this afternoon with both my choirs as we rehearsed for a very special Carol Service, the ShelterBox Carol Service on December 19th.
AS I GROW OLD I WILL MARCH NOT SHUFFLE
As I grow old
Iwill not shuffle to the beat
of self-interest
and make that slow retreat
to the right.I will be a septuagenarian insurrectionist
marching with the kids. I shall sing
‘La Marseillaise’, whilst brandishing
homemade placards that proclaim
‘DOWN WITH THIS SORT OF THING’.I will be an octogenarian obstructionist,
and build unscalable barricades
from bottles of flat lemonade,
tartan blankets and chicken wire.
I will hurl prejudice upon the brazier’s fire.I will be a nonagenarian nonconformist,
armed with a ballpoint pen
and a hand that shakes with rage not age
at politicians’ latest crimes,
in strongly-worded letters to The Times.I will be a centenarian centurion
and allow injustice no admittance.
I will stage longstanding sit-ins.
My mobility scooter and I
will move for no-one.And when I die
I will be the scattered ashes
that attach themselves to the lashes
and blind the eyes
of racists and fascists.Brian Bilston
Singing by the river in Penryn on Thursday mornings is always a joy and today the views were especially glorious.
View across from the Zed Shed
Looking up the river, for Paddy
I was looking for poems about refugees this evening and remembered one by the very talented Brian Bilston. Read it down and then start at the bottom and read up – and weep.
REFUGEES
They have no need of our help
So do not tell me
These haggard faces could belong to you or me
Should life have dealt a different hand
We need to see them for who they really are
Chancers and scroungers
Layabouts and loungers
With bombs up their sleeves
Cut-throats and thieves
They are not
Welcome here
We should make them
Go back to where they came from
They cannot
Share our food
Share our homes
Share our countries
Instead let us
Build a wall to keep them out
It is not okay to say
These are people just like us
A place should only belong to those who are born there
Do not be so stupid to think that
The world can be looked at another way
(now read from bottom to top)
After a morning at Community Roots, I spent this afternoon at St Michael’s Hospital in Hayle where I have had bilateral subtalar and ankle steroid injections to combat the arthritic pain. The injections are uncomfortable to have done but in the past have given me relief for about 6 months so are very well worth it. The staff are wonderful – kind and understanding, friendly, efficient and can’t do enough to make the patients feel good about their treatment. In this photo, with prepared ankles, I am about to go to the treatment room where the injections are done with x-ray guidance, Thank you to everyone. Tea and biscuits afterwards were greatly appreciated too! Our NHS is wonderful and we support them all in their strike actions.
The Shetland pony has returned to the field just behind us.
The other day I asked the poet, Brian Bilston, if I could use his poem, Selected Haiku, on my blog and he kindly said that I could so here it is. It made me laugh and I hope will make some of my readers smile too. I know that some of my ex-pupils are readers here and hope they will remember our attempts at Haiku in the classroom.
I love the following poem by Brian Bilston who has very kindly given me permission to share it with you. I love how, in the humour, he always manages to raise the political and to make clear his feelings. Thank you, Brian. 
The following photos are of international cats – one who lives in Arizona and one who lives at the allotment here in Redruth.
Thanks, P, beautiful photo.
Bees, wasps, flies and many other little creatures act as pollinators and are responsible for much of our food. I learned at our allotment talk on Sunday that bees have four wings and flies only two. To me this looks like a bee but it appears to have only two wings…….
Our Nelly Mosers are blooming.
Brian Bilston, a poet I admire greatly, has, very generously, given his permission for me to post this gem here for you, Dear Readers.
By Brian Bilston
We have brought in one of our roses which was beaten down by yesterday’s wild weather. It smells glorious and looks lovely in a piece of Mum’s green glass.
For all my fellow logophiles, here is a wonderful word that came my way today.
Brian Bilston, a poet whose works I really enjoy, has given me permission to share this one with you today. I love the imagination which took me on a walk through our favourite independent bookshop in Penzance.
Thank you, Brian. This is magical.
We have a number of Clematis over the arch in the vegetable garden and this year the purple ones, Warsaw Nike, are the most floriferous that they have ever been,eight flowers already and a dozen buds to come. 
Tonight’s supper of Chicken Korma and Aloo Sag with Onion Bhajis was scrumptious.
The poet, Brian Bilston, has given me permission to post his new poem here. It’s for all of us who are outraged at the current circumstances, for those of us who have spent a life protesting and who are still at it when we can. A group of us, choir friends, would have been at the Black Lives Matter protests on Sunday morning but as we are self isolating, we will be lighting candles instead. I think it was written for our Dear friend, Ti, too.
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