for mig

the story on the river today is one of silver grey skies and autumnal golden leaves

so simple, yet so beautiful

. . .Friday

there are side bar treats for those who fancy them. . .
.

and this (up arrow) is for mig!!

*frowns*

I don't think I've woken up properly yet

.
I'll be back

(oh - we could do favourite quotes! mine would have to be from The Naive and Sentimental Lover by John Le Carre. . .)(I can't remember it exactly, and my copy is not here, but it goes something like this: "What is it?" he asked. "Nothing" said The Lover, because love has no language.)

Love Heart Bingo: the results

(remember: they never lie)

(however, I, personally, have no idea to whom the Love Heart refers when I pick it out for you) (got that?!)

steg: Love Bug (ha!!)
mel: It's All Yours
The Brit (yeah, he's playin' too!): Hug Me
shot: My Boy
mig: For Keeps
vicus: Kiss Me (I'm not kidding you, these are totally random as played by the rules)
KAZ: Sugar Lips
ziggi: My Angel
gordie: Sugar Lips (yes, there are multiples of some sweets, I used two packets you see)
anon g: Miss Me
malc: My Girl
dinahmow: My Angel
sorrow: Hug Me
donnnnn: Sweet Heart
katherine: Looking Good
silver solo: Say Yes

*takes deep breath*

*takes stock*

hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, I'm going to have to think (quite hard) (I mean think quite hard, not that thinking is quite hard) (altho sometimes it still is) about this a little, before I try to decipher it. . . remember, I do not know who your Love Heart refers to in your life. . .

POST SCRIPT

apparently I've forgotten someone!
how remiss of me -
please accept my humble apologies

(*opens new packet of Love Hearts*)

if it's The Beep, your sweetie is Miss Me;
if it's tpwh♥ml, your sweetie is It's All Yours. . .

for mel, for gordie, for mig, for shot AND

STEG!!! (in no particular order) (altho STEG is very important) (oh!! AND VICUS!!) (and dave)
.

madness distilled

she (she was a she)(the new Dr Shrink, but we'll call her SHE)(as opposed to new Head Doctor)(he just does the meds and the odd phrase of wisdom) SHE told me to write down my thoughts

but i blog! i thought

so this morning i was thinking about that

and one think i thought was - sod it, they are all with XCH so i'll smoke inside with the door to the back step open, so i can still listen to the bird song and enjoy the cool of the early morning air from the warmth of the kitchen

and i know this, the smoking, is an abhorrent thought to some of you, but i also know (now)(thanks to SHE) that that doesn't matter a jot

you are all in my head

you are the people i wish i had met in real life

friends
supportive

non-judgemental

ones i have come to love, dearly

i know exactly who you all are

mel and mig are not mother-types, altho there is an age difference (not that i know how old mel is) and they both have daughters, but they are the kind of people who say things to me that my mother should have said, wise womanly, human, kind things - they don't constantly criticise and they don't expect me to do my best (which for my mother = be perfect) altho they know I do (and understand that = good enough)

dave and gordie are not father-types, but they say things to me and are the people with characteristics that my father should have said - they are interesting, educated, well read, fun, human, recognise limitations (my father used to say to me "I am a computer, I do not understand, explain another way")(he didn't do emotion, or pain, or anger, or indifference - only a kind of personal suffering which he didn't share or explain but we all suffered from him anyhow)

mango is the quiet girl at the back of the library who used to smile at me and sometimes we'd talk but there was a sort of an understanding between us altho not much was said

ziggi and double oh are the big sisters i never had - bonkers, fun, girly, the sort of girly that shows confidence in being a woman

horse the little sister

steg is the perfect big brother, a bloke to the core, fun, musical, educated, loving, kind

vicus is the mad uncle who visits everynowandagain and makes you laugh and you know under the gruffness that there is a kind soul who wouldn't harm you, he is not threatening (unlike my real uncle who was - well, i won't bore you with that)

.

KAZ is the wonderful mad aunt (i didn't have any aunts, to speak of) only she is not mad, she's young and fun and trendy and would probably take me shopping and we'd like the same shops and treat ourselves to silly things for the fun of it and she'd let me have a taste of something alcoholic that would make me barf and she'd laugh at me, but i'd know underneath she was just introducing me to the world of grown-ups
.

Z and dynamo are sweet kind rarely visiting aunts
.
craig and shot are the archetypal perfect American boyfriend that i grew up dreaming of in films and tv show, only i'm English and they are American, so that's the perfection in that despite the virtuality, craig is a good-looking Walton and shot is one of Fraiser's brothers (not Nials, oh no, i have been in love with Nials for years; shot is the other brother, the one they never mentioned in the show)

.

beep and malc are the perfect boy-next-door friends

craig, shot, beep, malc, gordie and steg host their own radio shows and i know if i tuned in i'd love every song and my record collection would extend beyond Abba, The Beatles, Bread, and various other middle of the road band i'm too embarrassed to admit to

saffron is my imaginary best friend

*peacefilled thoughts*

Ever, ever
Stir and shiver
.

The reeds and rushes
By the river
.

Ever, ever,
As if in dream,
.

The lone moon's silver
Sleeks the stream.

What old sorrow,
What lost love
.
Moon,
.

reeds,
.

rushes,
.

Dream you of?

for mig, with love

a not so well known one:
.

Ever, ever
Stir and shiver
The reeds and rushes
By the river:
Ever, ever,
As if in dream,
The lone moon's silver
Sleeks the stream.
What old sorrow,
What lost love,
Moon, reeds, rushes,
Dream you of?

(but I know you like moons and reed banks as much as I do! and quite possibly rushes too)
.

and the popular one, about keeping promises:
.

"Is anybody there?" said the Traveller,
Knocking on the moonlit door;
And his horse in the silence chomped the grasses
Of the forest's ferny floor.
And a bird flew up out of the turret,
Above the traveller's head:
And he smote upon the door a second time;
"Is there anybody there?" he said.

But no one descended to the Traveller;
No head from the leaf-fringed sill
Leaned over and looked into his gray eyes,
Where he stood perplexed and still.
But only a host of phantom listeners
That dwelt in the lone house then
Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight
To that voice from the world of men:
Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair
That goes down to the empty hall,
Hearkening in an air stirred and shaken
By the lonely Traveller's call.

And he felt in his heart their strangeness,
Their stillness answering his cry,
While his horse moved, cropping the dark turf,
'Neath the starred and leafy sky;
For he suddenly smote the door, even
Louder, and lifted his head:
"Tell them I came, and no one answered,
That I kept my word," he said.

Never the least stir made the listeners,
Though every word he spake
Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house
From the one man left awake:
Aye, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,
And the sound of iron on stone,
And how the silence surged softly backward,
When the plunging hoofs were gone.

Walter de la Mare


in this one I love the phrases "the stillness answering his cry" and "how the silence surged softly backward"

and the whole thing makes me think of blogging and lurkers (especially the person who works for Credit Suisse. . . are you really allowed to read blogs at work?)

I'm going off
to search for some images now,
to brighten the poems up a little,
I like images. . .

but I won't find
any
as beautiful as mig's!
.
.
ps mig, if only this gal were blonde. . .