Wednesday, July 07, 2021

Is this what happens to a boater's mind when he can't leave his mooring?

If we were on the cut at the moment, we'd be very well-tanned - remember those very sunny few days of  sun a while back? On one day, the temperature in the boat when I woke at 7:00 was a mere 17°. By the end of the day, it was 27°! We would also be very wet! For days now (or is it weeks? I've lost track of time) we've had frequent heavy downpours, sometimes very short-lived and diminishing simply to 'raining'. But only sometimes. There's been a lot of strong wind as well.

Before the storm

After the storm

Is this another one on its way?

Now, I don't look upon us as fair-weather floaters - we can recall many occasions when we've got soaked right through (they're all in this blog!) - but I really wouldn't want to be caught mid-water in a downpour such as we're experiencing right at this moment. What made us laugh was the single file of around a dozen ducks who left the rain-beaten canal for the rain-beaten long grass. An odd choice for a duck?



I can't remember if I've written before about the strange but rather lovely poetic experiences I've had over the past months or years, but it happened again recently. My apologies if I have told you before and you're bored by the repetition.

I don't consider myself to be a poet, though I've written a few for my eyes only. I enjoy good poetry. It was part of my O and A-level English courses, then my English degree studies took me deeper and introduced me to a number of poets I hadn't been aware of. But I haven't written any worthy of  public scrutiny. Imagine my surprise and delight, then when I woke up one morning with a poem, short but complete, running through my mind. I'd describe it as an Elizabethan nonsense rhyme

Gently does it
I am oft times of a mind to
call the evening a Gentle,
and to spend that Gentle wisely
seated quietly 'neath the trees.

This was followed not long afterwards by a silly combination of rhyming couplets and a haiku.

Haiku
I’m going to write a Haiku.
It’s not going to be very hard, ‘cos, 
whenever I start writing Haiku,
I can turn them out by the yard.
But there’ll be something different with this one
That’ll make it stand out from the rest.

It will surely be
a poem that ends better
than you might have guessed.


My latest, also a nonsense rhyme (madness triggered by moored boat syndrome?), came to me as I awoke, erm... some other time.

Celery
You can tango with a mango,
you can stare at a pear,
you can grapple with an apple
if the orange isn’t there,
play cribbage with a cabbage
and rout a brussels sprout,
but what the hell do you do with celery?


I was amazed when my sister, Jill, sent me some of her poetry. Some of it had also come to her as she woke from sleep. Odd, huh?

Here's another odd thing. There are three million premium bond prizes each month, and Grace and I have each just won a prize in the same draw. And it's happened at least once before. What are the chances? Any statisticians out there? They were only the smallest prizes this time, £25 each, but welcome nonetheless. We reckon we've had a better return from our bonds over the years than the interest on any bank account.

And, before I go,.. I came across this on the wall in an old church a while back. It's attributed to a 17th century nun, but there are those who think it's much more recent that that. I don't care either way. It made me laugh a lot - and some of the laughter was on me!


1 comment:

  1. Roger, we too have had a series of downpours. The rain seems to come and go and be interspersed by spells of lovely sunshine. I'm not a poetry fan myself but I enjoyed your verses here. The letter from the old nun is great. I think we should all pray that particular prayer as the years go by :)

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