Embers of my Dreams

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My lockdown life has fuelled a fire
a fire of the imagination
It burns the strongest in my dreams
its brightest light at night
an ever flickering conflagration
half hidden from my sight

For when I wake
I feel its kick
I tremble with the loss
of leaving that other clouded world
left picking through its embers

There where strangers meet as friends
where lovers lose their once-held power
where every tree meant more to me
with every passing hour

But why when shrouded in dreamland’s mists
do such recovered images
disappear with wakefulness
refuse to linger
rush away
leaving only a taste
a memory risked
asecond chance missed
a taste of what could have been
lost in that fleeting insubstantial dream

Today’s Door

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Today’s Door

Stir Your stumps
Get up and do it
Let not langour win
Life is swiftly passing by
Get up and face its din.

For every moment
Spent in bed
Is one less passed in living
Be up and face what life will bring
Conquer your misgivings

Today  might well
Be just the one
When all your dreams are met
When life and love meet happiness
If that’s not happened yet.

And if it’s not
What have you lost
You didn’t have before
At very least you’ll soon discover
What hides behind day’s door.

 

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Your World Or Mine?

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Your World Or Mine?

The world in which you live is not my world,
Close as we intermingle when we meet.
However much I try to understand,
The gap between us still is
bitter-sweet.

It holds its mysteries which I cannot breach,
Try as I always do to understand.
Your loves, your passions, seem to me as strange
As some unfathomed febrile wonderland.

But when I hold you in my midnight thoughts,
When dreams replace that cold reality,
It is as though we are completely one,
How trivial, how petty, our disparity.

 

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Icons of my Past

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Icons of my Past

My era has passed and gone,
And with it all my heroes,
But memory lingers long,
Of giants, saints and weirdos.

These I have loved and known,
They made me who I am,
Imbibed while I have grown,
Since I lived in a pram.

How they have coloured my life,
These heroes, these comic bygones,
But through victory and strife,
They’ve ever been my icons.

How many do you remember,
Who live and colour your dreams?
Valiant or tender,
Feeding both laughter and screams.

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These are the ones which live on in my own memory . .  .

Just William:  ‘Just William’ is the first book of children’s short stories about the young school boy, William Brown, written by Richmal Crompton, and published in 1922. William Brown is an eleven-year-old boy, eternally scruffy and frowning. He and his friends, Ginger, Henry, and Douglas, call themselves the Outlaws.  Also appearing in the books is Violet Elizabeth Bott, who is renowned for crying out “I’ll thcream and thcream ’till I’m thick”.  The stories were also used in numerous television, film and radio adaptations of the books.

Roy of the RoversA British comic strip about the life and times of a fictional footballer and later manager named Roy Race, who played for Melchester Rovers.

Biggles & his sidekick, Algernon (‘Algy’) Lacey:  James Bigglesworth, nicknamed “Biggles”, is a fictional pilot and adventurer, the title character and hero of the Biggles series of adventure books, written for young readers by W. E. Johns. There are  almost 100 Biggles books published between 1932 and 1968.

Wilson of the Wizard – The Wonder Athlete illustrated stories first published in 1943 as a comic strip, in the British illustrated story paper ’The Wizard’, written by Gilbert Lawford Dalton and drawn by Jack Glass.

Garth – action-adventure hero, created by Steve Dowling, in a comic strip published in the British newspaper ‘Daily Mirror’ from 1943 to 1997.

Rupert Bear — (with friends, Bill Badger, Edward Trunk and Algy Pug) – comic strip character created by English artist Mary Tourtel and first appearing in 1920 in the Daily Express newspaper.

Desperate Dan was a wild west character in the now-defunct British comic magazine The Dandy.

Dennis the Menace:  a long-running comic strip in the British children’s comic The Beano.

Billy Bunter is a fictional schoolboy created by Charles Hamilton using the pen name Frank Richards. He features in stories set at Greyfriars School, originally published in the boys’ weekly story paper ’The Magnet’ from 1908 to 1940. 

P. C.49 was created for radio by Alan Stranks. PC 49 (Police Constable Archibald Berkeley-Willoughby) was an ordinary bobby on the beat, solving crime in the late 40s and early 50s.

Flash Gordon is the hero of a space opera adventure comic strip created by and originally drawn by Alex Raymond. It was first published in 1934.

Superman is a fictional superhero, created by writer Jerry Siegel and artist Joe Shuster. He first appeared in the comic book Action Comics #1 in 1938.

Dan Dare is a British science fiction comic hero, created by illustrator Frank Hampson who also wrote the first stories.  Dare appeared in the Eaglecomic stories from 1950 to 1967. It was also dramatised seven times a week on Radio Luxembourg from 1951to 1956.

Captain Marvel, also known as Shazam, is a fictional American comic superhero, created by artist C. C. Beck and writer Bill Parker 1939 appearing in American comics originally published by Fawcett Comics. He is the alter ego of Billy Batson, a boy who, by speaking the magic word “SHAZAM!” (acronym of six “immortal elders”: Solomon, Hercules, Atlas, Zeus, Achilles, and Mercury), can transform himself into a costumed adult with the powers of superhuman strength, speed, flight and other abilities. Based on comic book sales, the character was the most popular superhero of the 1940s, outselling even Superman.


TheSaint

Simon Templar, The SaintSimon Templar, a Robin Hood-like figure, known as the Saint, the protagonist of a book series by Leslie Charteris and subsequent adaptations on TV., a Robin Hood-like figure, known as the Saint, the protagonist of a book series by Leslie Charteris and subsequent adaptations on TV.

 

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Weaving Words

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Weaving Words

I wander my world 
Weaving words into verse
Plaiting my thoughts 
Into silken skeins of sense
Rendering images
from my mind’s eye
To this digital paper.

Perverse perception
Lending life to poetry
Lust to hope 
And love to mon amour
The written word.

Only in time
with wish fulfilment
Perchance my dreams
Will meet my expectations 
And produce that meisterwerk
Whose impetus
Drives me on.

 

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NOTE:   Without apologies – a poem which I have blogged previously.

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She Lives

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SHE  LIVES


With wizened face and withered arms he looks his ninety years;

His hairless head,  those sunken eyes, not given to easy tears.
Though yet a smile lights up his face whenever he looks at her,
For she it is who lights his life, brings calm to soothe his fears.

But she is now a photograph, an image in her youth,
Mounted in silver, encased in glass, resplendent in its frame.
A memory of memories, written on his heart,
Reminder of a life well spent, of the lovers they became.

Long years, a life, have passed him by, the past now left behind.
What does the future hold for him that hasn’t once been tried?
Save memories, now fading, but alive within his heart,
Bringing rich fodder to his dreams, a full life justified.

 

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Are your dreams like my dreams?

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Are your dreams like my dreams?

 

Are your dreams like my dreams, elusive,
With never a clear-cut start;
Are your dreams like mine, inconclusive,
At the end do they just fall apart?

Are your dreams like my dreams, so vague,
Do they mix up the people you know;
Are your dreams like my dreams, opaque,
Are the sites so unclear where you go?

Are you ever en route to a party,
One where you’re desperate to be,
But one that you never can get to,
A permanent absentee?

Are you anxious to find you way home,
Lost and looking for aid,
Or unable to find a companion,
Delayed, dismayed, and afraid?

For me, dreams are never a pathway
To content, to pleasure and bliss;
They never do end in contentment,
Never that satisfied kiss.

 

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Wednesday – ‘Nothing Ventured’

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An aphorism for each day, keeps the doctor away. Each day this week I am offering a common aphorism, some just slightly embellished – for good or ill.

Wednesday – ‘Nothing Ventured’

 

Nothing ventured – nothing gained,

Let that be our guiding thought;

Don’t by worries be constrained,

Nor let our dreams all come to nought;

We’ve had enough of being restrained.

 

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Lost In Dreamland

silhouette of tree during golden hour

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LOST in DREAMLAND

Often in my dreams I’m lost
Searching for a far-off home.
No great tension, but unease,
As through those endless streets I roam.

Not knowing where, on earth or heaven,
This aimless wandering is taking me,
I trip and stumble, vaguely sensing
There’s somewhere else I’d rather be.

Pressure builds as worry mounts;
Unrest and trepidation rise.
Strain and traction build with tension,
As with my terrors I fantasise.

I always wake both tense and sweating,
No resolution ever reached,
Leaving me, instead of rested,
Stressed, still tired, my fears increased.

 

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Weaving Words

book opened on top of white table beside closed red book and round blue foliage ceramic cup on top of saucer

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Weaving Words

. . . A Poet’s Calling

I wander my world 
weaving words into verse
plaiting my thoughts 
into silken skeins of sense
rendering images
from my mind’s eye
to this digital paper
perverse perception
lending life to poetry
lust to hope 
and love to mon amour
the written word.

 
Only in time
with wish fulfilment
perchance my dreams
will meet my expectations 
and produce that meisterwerk
whose impetus
drives me on.

 

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