Goodness me, but what a sunshiny day today. We are being lucky in terms of weekend weather these days. Are we still in Britain at all? Anyway, here's today's poem:
Meditation 199
Buried in a list
of impossible towns –
Dibon, Kedemoth,
Zereth-Shahar –
lies the death
of Balaam,
devious teller
of fortunes
and beater of donkeys
and I find that,
for his faults,
I’ll miss him.
Today, Lord H and I have spent a very pleasant few hours wandering around Wisley and particularly admiring the sunflowers. I do so love sunflowers. Such a happy plant. We also had a very good lunch and watched as Queen Victoria and her entourage (no less) greeted her subjects. She looks surprisingly well for a dead woman, I must say.
Once back home, I braved medical opinion by taking a (I think) well-earned nap, and am now feeling like I could start my day all over again. I might well add a few more sentences to my short story later on, but we'll see. There's also a programme on TV about God (well, it is Sunday ...) later which we may well catch, even though it looks rather too worthy for the weekend.
Here's this week's haiku:
Railway men dressed as
orange flamingoes punch soil
on the railway track.
Today's nice things:
1. Sunshine
2. Poetry
3. Wisley
4. Napping
5. Haikus.
Anne Brooke - lapping up the sun
Vulpes Libris: shining a light on the secret life of erotic fiction
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