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Come Into The Garden Maud – Hemingby Open Gardens Day.
Come into the garden Maud,
An open day of gardens galore,
some long, some short, some thin, some broad
all I’m sure deserve awards.
June came round double quick
as we tried to make our lawns lush and thick,
to coax and water blooms to show
the magic as our gardens grow.
A little tweak here and there,
a rake, a broom, a weather prayer!
Come on Roses, show your faces
we need some colour, some perfect Acer’s.
Poppies, Geraniums, Lavender blue,
delight at every corner anew,
hanging baskets lend their hues,
as birds sing to add to pretty views,
of twinkling ponds and water features
the bubbles of the little creatures,
that swim beneath the lush green creepers.
Hosta plants with waiting blooms
to lift our spirits from Winter gloom.
Hydrangeas, Rhododendrons, tomatoes in pots,
delight our eyes and produce a lot!
Trellis’s of Sweet-peas reach our noses
their pretty faces in tangled motion…
Tall fir trees sway in breezes, good
not to have hay-fever sneezes.
These beautiful gardens, prepared for you
with care and love, I must applaud.
So come into the garden Maud!
This Changing World – Paris 2015
Dark these recent stormy skies
battleship grey, gloom filled days
entangled with tears…
Blood spills in joyous places from
young music revellers, flows warmly away
amongst coffee loving gentle souls.
In quiet bistros filled with amore,
mixes in delicious smells of Paris…
Wickedness pours forth, from crazy minds
to mar this beautiful city of France.
It will not happen,
it will not be changed.
Not by YOU!
Your souls are damaged
by promises of a utopian heaven
for this is NOT the teaching of Islam
your minds are radicalised,
soaked from poison dripped evil,
do you not understand what is happening,
listen and STOP,
this corruption of your spoilt young minds,
brain-washed by evil despots
who are themselves the infidels.
Who are themselves the infidels…
Written for my Daughter-in-Law Sandrine – whose sadness for her country I can feel.💔
@ Copyright – Susie Hemingway 2015
Adrift – by Susie
 
Adrift, swooping swallows our only shade
ends indolent inert day,
laying naked in sun warmed ‘muddle’
the gentle sway of bobbing boat
reveals this sleepy scene,
the postprandial glass in hand,
a passage, a chasm,
this hiatus, this pause in time,
adrift, at mercy of our circumstances.
“Up Where We Belong”
plays loudly in my mind as
swallows break this torpid air
serenading their mating call
and this evening song…
@copyright Susie Hemingway.
photo: courtesy of Anne Manning.
Swallows are able to produce many songs, which are used to express excitement, to communicate with others of the same species, during courtship. The songs of males are related to the body condition of the bird and are presumably used by females to judge the physical condition and suitability for mating of males. The typical song of swallows is a simple,sometimes musical twittering.
The Wall – Susie Hemingway.
The sunlight crept over the wall slowly
pulling itself as if tugging a tank
the heavy night seemed distant
the dreams seemed real…
With heavy heart I looked at the sky
the soft blue of a summer day
was nearly upon me,
light puffy wisps of pearly white clouds
pushed into my vision,
as this voice inside vibrates,
a heart bleeds and dissolves.
This circle goes round forever
this wall withers my needs
as I look above…
Difficult heart cutting days.
The wall that holds me back.
The wall, tall, dark and brutally gloomy,
this barrier to a new life,
this wall so near my face,
this wall that snaps and breaks me
and withers my heart…
This wall so heavily built against me
unyielding,
this block of bricks
returns its view…
@ copyright Susie Hemingway.
“A Poem”
A poem…begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness… It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.
ROBERT FROST, The letters of Robert Frost to Louis Untermeyer.
The Sun Shone Brightly On This March Easter.
So slowly this morning the dawn greeted me with a suitably golden sunrise creeping up and across the pale green pastures of this early Easter. A natural perfect beauty of a new day.  Walking to the village hall I thought that at last I detected the smell of Spring or perhaps as I approached it was the delicious smell of bacon cooking?  It is tradition in this little village to serve a cooked breakfast to those who like to join in a companible social setting. The full works is served, cereal, fruit juices, white and brown toast, marmalades, various jams and of course a magnificently cooked breakfast of sausage, egg, bacon, mushrooms, tomatoes and beans. The tables are perfectly laid with chintzy red clothes, vases of daffodils and shining cutlery, even I may add little dishes of chocolate eggs.
This morning we served about forty-five people, they chatted happily with joyous greetings of “Happy Easter”. It is good to take stock every now and then and appreciate how very lucky we are in this pleasant rural life of ours, where friendships flourish and folk care about those who are becoming older. Gentleness is the source of all caring, a smile, a kind considered word or two, go a long way in making those who days are slower now and for those that could, if care was not taken, lead lonely lives.
I have lived here in this little Village nestling at the foot of the Lincolnshire Wolds since 2004. No it’s not the prettiest village but its beauty shines in its ability to retain this special character of friendliness and tranquility which elsewhere may be impossible to find. Many happy faces left the village hall this morning, long may it last. “Happy Easter” dear readers, may this Easter find you with peace and a joyous heart.
The Poet by Susie Hemingway.
As tumbled snow does softly lay
where safe in warm this cosy realm
a tableau forms of quiet moments
this rhymester peers at hamlet small,
still, as the day does dawn this sonneteer
sees trees of silvery sparkles
light the view with crystal shards,
the easy set of spire shows
a clustered centre of gentle ‘bards’.
As scene unfolds another day
in pictured calmness.
The verse makes eyes
that steal the view…
A Perfect Party Room.
Finished Garden Room.
Away too long…
Such a busy time since the completion of my lovely Garden Room. My youngest Son has married beautiful Julia in a most  stunning setting and we had the most perfect day to remember. I shall write about that special day and my travels to Rome and then to Tuscany shortly..
Exterior Completed – Well Almost!
Such a fun filled few weeks watching the Garden Room rise-up towards completion. Not the best of weather with quite a bit of overnight rain and it looks bleak everywhere but the good workers championed on to get the roof secure before the Christmas and New Year break. They all worked hard and with copious cups of strong tea and many plates of biscuits and Xmas Mince pies they succeeded. The garden is in aterrible mess now but when Spring approaches it will be great to think about the design for a small patio and a good general tidy-up. Still lots to complete before then with the stud-boarding and plastering to all walls and the knocking through to the kitchen, the tiles and lighting. With the plumber having done his bit, the pipes for the radiators have now been ‘picked-up’ and joined from the main system but the radiator has yet to be installed.
Christmas has been strange this year opting to stay put at home with not knowing at what stage the project would be at when arrangements were being talked about, although I was lucky with several invites I was worried to leave but as it turned out all was secure, still I had made up my mind to stay put and stay put I did.  It was not so bad as anticipated with a nice walk down to the village pub on Christmas day andfestive chats there, kept me buoyant as did the couple of good brandies to ward off the very chilly weather. Boxing day I went to Lincoln and roamed the furniture shops looking primarily at sofas and dining tables and nice pieces to decorate my Orangery. I enjoyed my day and snuggled down comfortably in the evening content to watch some films and eat far too much chocolate! The first ever Christmas spent alone at home but I managed it well I feel,  it was all rather peaceful and calm and I like that.  I managed also to clean Hamada’s headstone in the churchyard after I had my delicious warming brandy of course – it does get cold up there with the wind cutting through the bare branches of the surrounding trees.. His headstone tends to get covered in a green verdigris type substance at this time of year. I had my usual little chat with him and felt comforted on my walk back. Life is after all what you make of it. I am rarely lonely, alone yes but feel very lucky that I am able to be content and peaceful when life does not always deal you the best hand.  I miss my ‘best love’ more than words can say but as I have said before “Sorrow is better than fear, for fear is a journey a terrible journey but sorrow is at least arriving” Deep sorrow is something you CAN live with but the fear when someone is ill, the constant worry that you are doing all you can for them, even though deep down you know you are and the deep desire that when the time comes that all will be peaceful and right, is far far worse than the sorrow and loss I feel now. I have drifted off the subject somewhat but that’s what happens with writing sometimes.
As we approach 2015 I would like to wish those who read here a truly enlightening year with all good and delicious new things coming your way, peaceful pleasures that bring joy to your soul. Mostly I wish you good health to be able to go out and walk – if you can- in this lovely world of ours. If not to look at the magic wonders of our sky especially at night with the twinkling stars that fill this velvet void. Thank you for reading my simple words. ” Our joys as winged dreams do fly. Why then should sorrow last…” Stay strong all those that live alone and know that I am thinking of you and wishing you well. And so with these words I march onwards with this good life of mine. God Bless!