Finally!
Okay, tried to get this below the second para but the program has a mind of it's own. This is our favourite home away from home when we stay in Townsville. The reflection in the window shows you why. Now, I wonder what I did with that t-shirt...
Since this site has changed I have had trouble posting anything. Funnily enough whatever was wrong has cleared itself. (Touch Wood!)
This year I have decided to concentrate on my memoirs. The time is flowing by so quickly that I don't know when I will ever get everything done. Can but try ;-)
I wrote the following poem a year ago. I must have had a premonition of things to come. Shortly after this I was called in to the hospital to have a cancer removed from my breast. Fortunately it was small and things are now all clear.
After a Trip to Town.
Sleepless in bed
images clicked behind my lids:
five white cockatoos
perched on silvered remains of a gum,
like magnets on a fridge;
a cyclist, helmet intact,
sweaty sinuous legs automated;
egrets directing traffic
at pony club;
a rubble of cattle piled at a gate,
the sign above my bed -
‘No solids after 4 pm.’
Black cockatoos perched on the dead gum
when I travelled home.
4 Comments:
Glad to hear it's all looked after and clear.
Surreal dreams are good poem material.
By Anonymous, at 2:33 PM
Thanks Pearl. Yep, they sure are. Frances
By Frances Mackay, at 5:05 PM
Hi Frances,
Thanks for dropping by my blog. It was good to "read" from you..:)
I didn't know your medical issue last year was a cancerous breast lump. I'm very very happy to hear it all worked out okay!..:)...Angels Bless you Lady.
I like this post poem..you really are so good at writing. I see what you look like now too...:)
It's nice to know I have blog friends all the way across the world..from Singapore to Austrailia to China and England. Look how far we all can reach!
Blessings,
Rhi
By Rhiannon, at 10:56 PM
Hi Frances,
So thisis the similar medical issue you alluded to when you read my blog entry recently. I'm glad things were taken care of for you. Even so . . . there is something about your body's betrayal that is hard to recover from, do you think?
I'll need to make another blog entry-- part 3-- as my doctor ordered a cone biopsy of my innards. I remain calm . . . what else can I do?
Great poem. Goes with the circumstances.
Ruth~
By Ruth L.~, at 12:48 PM
Post a Comment
<< Home