Prose for Thought: How do you like your verbs?

Well, now, apropos of Prose for Thought this week, hosted here…

If you choose, would you have all the verbs in this language of ours follow a set pattern? Or do you think that the irregularity adds positive character? Let’s try it out the other way, and see what happens…

A smartphone-wise geek, as I’ve hore tell,
Well… Letters no longer he wrote,
But with many a ‘like’ he ‘loke’ all his friends
And many a tweet, he twote.

Many a post, on his blog, he blug
And many replies he got,
And as his ‘stats’ began to climb
His heart on awards, he sot.

But alas! He core not then, for followers true,
And for words, for their own sake, he slove;
He thunk hardly at all of their woes and their needs,
Yet for popularity crove.

Ah! Let us remember – to blog should be fun
An outreach to others who find
That a problem, when shore, will be easier solved,
And less of a strain on the mind.

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Wednesday Words: 27 March 2013

Time for Wednesday Words, hosted by Emma at Crazy With Twins…

First of all:

“Mary had a little lamb,
Its fleece was white as snow;
And everywhere that Mary went,
The lamb was sure to go.”

And then:

“Mr. Watson – come here! – I want to see you.”

OK, I know what you’re thinking…

Old Firefly usually gives us something a bit up on this. He’s flipped it. Blogging has turned his mind. It was bound to happen…

But no, gentle reader. I’m not quite ready for the men in white coats yet. Let me explain:

The nursery rhyme is by Sarah Josepha Buell Hale (1788 – 1879) from the USA. But, quoted by the inventor, Thomas Alva Edison (1847 – 1931) those words became the very first to be recorded on a phonograph, the predecessor of the gramophone, to be followed in turn by the record player and CD player. The second quotation is by Alexander Graham Bell (1847 – 1922) the inventor of the telephone. Bell conceived the idea of producing an electric current that changed in the same way as sound waves produce vibration, then using this to reproduce sound again, using what we now know as a microphone, and an earpiece or loudspeaker. Those words were the first to be successfully transmitted that way, and so could be said to be the first words to be spoken over a telephone.

Whether either, or both, men would have chosen more inspiring words had they realised the long-term significance of their actions, I cannot say. But just to complete the picture, I’ll give you something else from each of them:

“Opportunity is missed by most people, because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work”  (Edison.)

“Sometimes we stare so long at a door that is closing, that we see too late the one that is open.”  (Bell.)


This post is now also linked to Post Comment Love at Verily, Victoria Vocalises, here…

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Shape, Line, Colour…

Once again, it’s time for ‘Magic Moments’ at The Olivers’ Madhouse…

Well, the highlight of last year, for me, was getting involved the the luminarium project ‘Exxopolis’ run by Architects of Air. Keeping the story short (for now) a number of us helped to make a ‘mosaic’ panel out of small pieces of plastic sheet. Ah, the heady aroma of solvent on the late spring air…

But enough of the reminiscing; what we made formed one small part of the whole massive structure, essentially a vast plastic tent, kept up by a system of fans blowing air into it. Now, if you had suggested to me, say, a few weeks before, that people would be thrilled to go inside a plastic tent, I would have been tapping my skull! But this was no ordinary tent…

Our ‘thank you’ from Architects of Air was free admission on the opening evening. An evening I shall never forget. After the formal opening ceremony, we moved across to where the structure now stood, inflated…

Exxopolis 1

and took off our shoes…

Exxopolis 2and went inside, where an amazing display of shape…

Exxopolis 3line…

Exxopolis 4and colour, combined to give every visitor…

Exxopolis 5not just one, but a whole series…

Exxopolis 6of the most exquisite…

Exxopolis 7incredible…

Exxopolis 8magic moments!

*  *  *

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The Fight for Spring

This post is in response to the ‘100 Word Challenge’ here, where you will find links to lots more responses. The brief was to write 104 words, including the phrase shown in bold.

Earlier in the year, the unseasonal weather meant that ‘Spring’ kicked in early. Deciduous trees were in bud ‘before their time.’ Early snowdrops and aconites were not even surrounded by snow. That ‘here comes the sun, it’s good to be alive…’ feeling pervaded the British isles. Winter was all but over.

Oh, how dangerous are those words ‘all but…’

Winter decided to fight back, even though his time was almost up. The upshot was that, by last Thursday, Spring hadn’t quite sprung. Leaves, buds and flowers have been duelling with frost and snow. I hope they win. And I hope they win very soon.

Buds and Ice

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Mystery Picture 5

Yes, it’s been a while since I did one of these posts here. Mystery Picture 4 was finally cracked some months back, by Kay, who blogs at Brink of Bedlam – with, as they say, a little help from her friends, at Gardening Express. (It’s not what you know, it’s who you know, eh?) Anyway, here is the picture from which that one was cropped. (If I’d chosen a red pelargonium, you’d all have guessed it straight away, wouldn’t you? So, well done to Kay and the Gardening Express crew!

White Pelargonium
White Pelargonium

So now for another Mystery Picture! Please put your guesses in the replies box. Thank you. It’s a rather different theme this time!

??? Mystery Picture 5 ???
??? Mystery Picture 5 ???

Remember! The picture may be a view from an unusual angle, highly compressed, or highly magnified. And I’m not saying which!

This post is linked to the Post Comment Love linky hosted at Verily, Victoria Vocalises.

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Prose for Thought: Song of Morning

Today, Prose For Thought, hosted by Victoria Welton at Verily, Victoria Vocalises opens for new entries once again. Oh, and today’s other event is that it’s World Poetry Day. So today – or, I should say, tonight – I’m going to post, er, well, a poem.
It’s one that I’ve blogged before, albeit in a slightly different context, but I’m  doing so again, for two reasons; firstly [holds hands up] I haven’t got another one ready just yet, and secondly, the motivation behind this poem has increased since I wrote it, around two years ago. This is because I have come to know so many more people, through the blogging community, who have come through – or, indeed, are still going through – severe trials, of some kind, in  their lives.
Now, statistically, this isn’t surprising; let’s say we instance five hundred people: OK, a certain percentage will suffer from this or that medical condition, or a certain nature of hardship, or will have a family member who does. If the national figures indicate that, say, 5% of the population suffer in a certain way, my sample will be likely to contain around twenty-five of them. But the striking thing to consider is how many people are going through these trials, yet maintaining a positive attitude, even though they need all the encouragement they can get. This poem is meant to figuratively represent the collective voice of all who desire to encourage others along the pathway of life and learning. It’s called…

The Song of Morning

Whatever yesterday has been –
Whatever horror you have felt or seen –
The song of morning gives to you her promised token:
Implants new fire with precious words now spoken
In a vista – in a touch – to those who have awoken.

For she is a song that is alive and has a being –
Has eyes to give a smile – not just for seeing.
Yet see she does the sadness of her friend –
Comes with a fragrant balm the wounded heart to tend;
Into that inner space her love she dares to send.

She calls to tell you what is truly ‘morning’.
Yes! Whispers softly what is truly ‘dawning.’
More than the change of fingers on a clock –
More than a working day’s fresh culture shock –
More than another ship called Duty making dock.

A clear horizon melts from blue to gold.
The story of today is waiting to be told.
The song of morning offers you a hand to hold
So that you need not walk uphill alone,
Nor yet despair of finding answers yet unknown.

The song of morning takes you in her arms,
Invokes the waking breeze to soothe dread qualms;
Caresses you with new sunlight and calms
The fevered mind with sights as yet unseen,
Whatever yesterday has been.

*  *  *

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Wednesday Words: 20 March 2013

I’ve been thinking quite a bit lately about the way that many people, whose sense of justice makes them feel morally obligated to report on wrong-doing by giving information to the police and other agencies of law enforcement, are victimised by others rather than receiving praise for their actions. Recent news reports have highlighted the kind of abuse that is often meted out to whistle-blowers and others who assist criminal investigation.
One such person is Alexandria Goddard, whose investigative efforts in connection with a recent, particularly repulsive, rape case undoubtedly helped to secure convictions against the offenders. You can read her own account of this in full, here.
Right now, by way of mid-week inspiration to us all, I’d like to quote one phrase from this account in her own words. I would send this phrase all round the world, if I could.

“…it’s okay to be the lone man standing, as long as you STAND.”


Footnote: Our brave host of Wednesday Words, Emma at Crazy With Twins, is in hospital, having just undergone further surgery for thyroid cancer. I’m sure all of us send our best wishes for her recovery and for the full success of her treatment.

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A Short Long Journey

And so we move on, to another ‘magic moment’ for the linky at The Olivers Madhouse…

As the driver, I was somewhat nervous as we set off, because for one thing, I wasn’t very familiar with the route. Fortunately, my passenger knew it well, although we still had to do a fair number of turning-round sort of manoeuvres. At one point, the erratic behaviour of another motorist, who seemed to want to drive down the opposite side of the road from everyone else, didn’t help, but I managed to cope with this. I was, however, just a little apprehensive as to whether, from my point of view, our journey would be fruitless. I tried to stay calm about this.

As things turned out, I needn’t have worried; as we reached our destination, my passenger asked me a few questions. (We were only just getting to know each other.) He turned and looked at me, with just the flicker of a smile, and then came the magic moment…

“You’ve passed your test, kid!”

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