Sunday, 1 July 2012

The Flashing Bars of July*

Good Morning Dear Friends!
And, as it is the first day of July allow me once again to fill your bleary Sunday Morning eyes and ears with visions - in triplicate - of those members of the Leporidae clan, with particular reference to those devoid of pigmentation; to say nothing of mild fisticuffs of the order of pinching and punching ... where have the previous six months fled to? Anyhow, this is to be the very shortest of blogs, just to wish you a wonderful month ahead.
Beyond the study windows a steady sheet of rain drapes over the day making it seem like an unwanted and forgotten piece of furniture, in a locked and unremembered room; it is said that we see what we feel and hence my dismal imagery, for it has been a trying and troublesome time and, between you, me and the gate post, I've had more than enough of the stuff that life throws at one ... Oh hum!

Any old how, on a brighter note, I've just heard from friends taking part in the Sun Walk at Battersea Park in the great wen that is Lungdung that the weather is lovely and that a joyous carnival atmosphere pervades all which is, of course, brilliant news! The walk - which is just over thirteen miles- is in aid of Breast Cancer research and so the vast majority of walkers are parading around in undergarments decorated appropriately which must add to the party spirit ... Sadly, Rigby and Peller failed to have mine delivered on time and so I must content myself with cheering from the sidelines - these lines being drawn somewhere in the vicinity of the newly refurbished Costa where, very shortly, I shall be partaking of breakfast tea and cake with Sam and Andrew, aka Mr and Mrs Gecko... talking of which I had better begin the long dance of transformation in order not to shock the waiting world too much . . .

And now it is later and, thanks to a flying visit to the shire of cheese, I too can see the shining face of Pheobus and very nice it is too!  I'm spending a few hours here and taking the opportunity to continue this scribblage in the quiet and peaceful hamlet of Deer Crossing, where the only sound to break the mirror surface of the day is birdsong and the tip tapping of Yours Truly as the words fall like the rain and pain I've left behind.

I hope the new month fills you with joy and the promise of much more to come; sorry this is so brief but time is short and I need to recharge my jaded old soul somewhat in the few hours left.

'til next time

Be Seeing You !



 



*"The Summer looks out from her brazen tower,
Through the flashing bars of July."
- Francis Thompson,
A Corymbus for Autumn  


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