Month: November 2020

Boredom v creativity

It was a Sunday

At least for the first few moments of my morning stroll

Then it became a Rainday.

Along the towpath Everyman and his dog

Not to mention his wives and children

Were heading towards Whitely Arches,

This elegance in iron, The   grandeur of its architecture

Its graceful outline spanning the canal.

You don’t agree?

Well, it was constructed by the same company who built the Sydney Harbour Bridge

No kiddin’.

I negotiate the puddles

Being careful not to kick the bucket

And brush aside the Danger of Death warnings.

To my left I catch a fleeting glimpse of foxes wearing green gloves

As they join battle for wall space

While Daisy and Fern cheerfully wave in the breeze.

But ‘just like the ivy I’ll cling to you.’

My Fairy Lady atop her barge meows

And goes in search of  Owl

So they can both ‘go to sea in a beautiful pea green boat.’

She doesn’t have far to look and I stop for a moment’s Indulgence

And draw up a chair to the sewing table, so neatly placed

But the Craft Snail has beaten me to it, so, feeling cross stitched

I repair to a stone bench and sink into  its mossy arms.

The sign tells me I’ve still 25 miles to go so I stop to hitch a ride.

If I were brave

I could paddle my own canoe to New Zealand,

But I’m not.

I spy a nearby car

And try to attract the driver’s attention ‘but answer came there none.’

So I’ll ‘sail away for a year and a day to the land where the Bong tree grows.’

It eyes me steadily and I retreat

And head for the Promised Land at the end of the rainbow

But like everything else at the moment it’s in shreds.

A walk through Time

Weaving is interwoven into the very landscape of this narrow sunless valley.

Not so long ago here in the mills limbs were wrenched from bodies,

Young bodies bent, misshapen, gnarled,

Old before their time.

Those who sought escape were confined – horribly.

Indoor sanitation in the town was non existent.

Death came early.

No wonder Hell Hole Rocks look down on such a scene.

Even the Town Hall has its skeletons, not locked in the cupboard where they should be

But happily displayed in the window for all to see.

Today the wicked lady

Casts her multiple eyes about her

A wrecked Mercedes sulks beneath the weaving shed

Now adorned with vibrant colours.

The once deafening clatter of  its looms  now silent

Allowing birds to build perfectly formed nests atop abandoned trees.

A jelly fish high in another tree captures the wicked lady’s attention.

She wonders if she needs a self testing kit to test her sanity

So she stops for sustenance at the bakery.

There’s as much chance of seeing blue sky today as there is of seeing pie in the sky.

‘I’m not a cactus expert but I know a prick when I see one’

Whispers the Santa hatted bottle

But she hurries onwards,

While a bemused Cheshire cat looks on with a twinkle in his eye

Wondering what on earth the elephants are doing.

A rare morning of blue sky

A serendipitous day out in Haworth