Garden Party

 It was at the family party when I saw the family face, Susan's one possessors of this our family trait,  It's there on Sarah and on Emma I see it on Louise too, it's popped up over centuries from Great Grandma to you. 

I wonder who was first to possess this family face, some great beauty lost in time in some other place, it's survived for generations it always leaves it's trace, so down the line someone will inherit the family face.

Time is the main member of this club we're all in now, we keep dancing the band keeps playing the tune we know so well. It's survived for generations it always leaves it's trace, so down the line someone will inherit our family face...........

  

Princess Naffain'tshe

                                                                   Queen Nefertiti

I chased her down the days and down the nights.   I chased her in my youth and through the years.         I  chased her to the stars and in the myths of cosmogony.    I chased her in the labyrinth ways of my own mind.   And with my chisel I chased her in African mahogany.  

But,  in the mist of tears could not find the beauty that was Queen Nefertiti.................

North-- South-- South?-- West.....

 I was given a ships compass by my sister that was leaking oil from it's housing. I couldn't  stop the leak so I decided to drain the oil out and make a keepsake box for myself.     

Then I noticed there was no East marked on the compass it read north, south, south, west. How ever it was passed by the manufacturer and sold and possibly installed in to a boat I'll never know.

So I have awarded this compass the  I.B.A  for Endeavour.............

   

Walnut Twirl

 Bellerine.    You must've seen her dancing in the sand. And now she's in me always with me,                          Tiny Dancer in my hand.

Walking Sticks

 I woke up this morning, feelin'  round for my shoes. Know 'bout at I got these, old walkin' blues.              Woke up this mornin;    feelin' round for my shoes.                                                                                    But  you know 'bout' at I got these old walkin'  blues.

 

Chair for playing the jumping flea

 

There's one rotten string on my Ukulele.

That holds me back from playing. Behind it, an inexplicable frustration, but the explanation goes without saying.

Strum, Strum, Buzz, Strum, why can't I just play the cord, is something wrong with the instrument?

Beyond repair I can afford.

Bottle of wine

 Bottle of wine, fruit of the vine, when you gonna let me get sober? Let me alone, let me go home, let me go back to start over.

Little chair

 

Maquette for my ukulele chair

Wire Man

 Why aye man, why aye, why aye man why aye man, why aye, why aye man.

We had no way of staying afloat we had to leave on the ferry boat.

Streaky the Pig

 Walking through the close by Lichfield Cathedral in June,  I noticed there was some restoration work being carried out on the Cathedral.  Stonemasons  were removing some perished sandstone high on the Western side of the Cathedral. There was a man in a high vis jacket pointing things out on the Cathedral to a group visitors. I asked him if he was with the restoration team he said yes, I then asked him if I could have one of the old pieces of sandstone so I could have a go at carving. He said no.  He said the stone was to perished and advised me to go and get a new piece from a quarry in Stafford.

About a week later I was in the close again and I saw one of the  masons having his dinner in his van. I asked him what he did with the old stone he removed from the Cathedral, he said the large pieces were redressed and the smaller ones thrown in to a skip. I offered to buy one of the old stones from him but he said he didn't want any money and climbed into the skip and took one out for me.

I took the  seven hundred year old pieces stone home with me and put it in the garden. After a few days I noticed the stone looked rather like a pig, so I knocked one or two lumps off it thats what it turned out to be. Who would have thought a pig would have been hiding inside that stone for the last seven or eight hundred years?

Horace

 " My boy" always try to rub up against money, for if you rub up against money long enough,                     some of it may rub off on you.

Darkness

 A strong wind blows me over a breeze will push me on, down a long pebbled beach in the rain.                        I know that your not there and I live in despair it's the memories that I want not to fade.

You are gone now forever so there's nothing left to say, time runs through my fingers every-day.                 I will follow you on to the darkness where you've gone, I'll look for you in the next life come what may.

He who laughs last thinks slowest.

 Middle age finds women left sans beauty, and men sans skills;                                                                        Result,    misery.

Cold Cold Heart

 I fled Him, down the nights and down the days. I fled Him, down the arches of the years. 

I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways of my own mind: 

And in the mist of tears I hid from Him and under running laughter.                                                     

Celia Celia

 When I am sad and weary,                                                                                                                               When I think all hope has gone,                                                                                                                  When I skate along on Stowe Pool                                                                                                                     I think of you with nothing on.

Every Dog His Day

 When all the world is young, lad, and all the trees are green.

And every goose a swan, lad, and every lass a queen.

Then hay for boot and horse, lad and round the world away!

Young blood must have it's course, lad,

and every dog his day.

 

Stanley Park with Sooty

 Foggy day, November night, hoping things would turn outright,                                                                       I went into a club I've never been before.                                                                                                        She was there in a chair I couldn't help but stand and stare,                                                                              at the dark haired beauty named Mary Moscrop

Holidays,  the Eiffel Tower, Paris with a April shower.                                                                                  Sacre-Coeur  the  Folies Bergere  Champs Elysees.                                                                             Skopelos shooting stars, Barcelona mardi gras, drinking wine in Spanish bars,                                            with Mary Moscrop. 

Ancient persons growing old aching shaking crazy cold,                                                                            second childhood heart of gold,  walking shadows.                                                                                       Full of sound full of fury signifying nothing surely.                                                                                    I                I am here with a cheer and Mary Moscrop.

Oh Mary Moscrop,   Oh Mary Moscrop.                                                                                              Radiant,  full of joy, cock-a-hoop that I'm her boy.                                                                                 Happy as Larry, with Mary Moscrop.