Forbidden Territory for M lady Kelly Houseman
I tend my gardens on the moon
The far side which the earth can’t see.
Although I fear that very soon
astronauts will visit me.
I’ll hide my gardens from their eyes.
This is a place they should not be.
This is no time for compromise.
I will repel them forcibly
I value highly solitude
and my hard won serenity
I disdain men’s attitude.
They’re lacking in maturity.
A member of an older race
I’ve paid my dues and earned the right
To protect my own living space
which I keep hidden out of sight.
Intruders I won’t tolerate
I will destroy them instantly
and leave no trace as to their fate.
If they intrude impudently.
I tend my gardens on the moon
with loving care contentedly
and ask from fate one single boon.
No astronaut should bother me.
I live alone because I choose
Preferring my own company
for others I have little use.
In perfect self sufficiency.
13-Aug-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Related quotes
Green Fingers
People have gardens, both large and small,
Whilst flat dwellers have no garden at all.
Some people love to surround their homes
With comical-looking, little garden gnomes.
A few gardens boast fantastic water-features,
Or a large array of stone, woodland creatures.
To make their garden nice, some folk really do try,
Whilst other gardens really are a sight for sore eyes.
Some folk really wish their garden was just not there,
And, about them, they, very obviously, just do not care.
Without a garden, some people would feel really lost,
And they keep them looking nice, whatever the cost.
Some people are blessed: they have green fingers,
And, in their gardens, for hours, they love to linger.
When some people pull on their gardening gloves,
They tend their gardens with such heartfelt love.
People love to spend their time sowing seeds,
Trimming their hedges, and pulling up weeds.
Some tend flower beds, upon bended knee.
Some grow delicious fruit upon their trees.
The gardener's nightmare is the garden pest:
To eradicate them all, they do their best.
Some people love to escape to their sheds,
Where they can think, and clear their heads.
In their gardens, people love to spend time,
But they like it best, when the weather is fine.
When all of their gardening chores are done,
Some people love to sit and relax in the sun.
Time spent in the garden, always really flies;
The benefits of gardening cannot be denied.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Old Fashioned Courtesy for M'lady Tara
The hearth is the heart of the home.
Or used to be before T.V
The glowing coals bid you welcome
on winter nights especially.
Though now the idiots lantern rules
and it is given pride of place
An entertainment fit for fools
who sit and watch without a trace,
a glimmer of intelligence.
They live their lives vicariously
an unreal world of false pretence.
Hypnotised by what they see.
Although I watch occasionally
I can find better things to do.
Than voluntary slavery.
I have my hobbies to pursue.
I tend to watch the latest news,
Sometimes a movie if I choose
perhaps a documentary
I’m in control not the T.V/
If you should choose to visit me
So I can greet you properly
I switch it off without a thought
as any polite person ought.
16-Dec-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Quit My Gardens, O Crows!
quit my gardens, o crows!
&
o noisy quarrelsome crows!
quit my gardens-
o birds of all feathers!
of different melodies!
of lonely bushes and thickets!
of far-away lands!
come here! visit me!
grace my gardens and groves!
nay, all yours, your heavens!
no, ours!
sing singly; sing in chorus!
melt in sorrowful strains;
and in joyous tunes!
but o hoarse-throated crows!
vacate my gardens
and retreat to the forest!
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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Serenity is my portion for M lady Ann Beard
The last rays of the setting sun
encarnadine the grey stonewalls
of my small house when day is done.
I watch content as darkness falls.
I have an unimpeded view
from where I sit towards the sea.
Each sunset shows me something new
the darkness holds no threat for me.
In fact I crave the quietness.
I choose to live in solitude.
I hate the city’s business
an anti social attitude? .
That may be true I can’t deny
I do not seek the company
of fellow men and I know why
I hate the close proximity.
Of the unthinking bustling crowd
Who advertise their discontent
broadcasting random thoughts aloud
By accident without intent.
The random thoughts they radiate
albeit quite unknowingly
combine together and create
a standing wave of misery.
Perhaps I am too sensitive.
Which would explain my attitude
The reason that I choose to live
in isolated solitude.
I’m woken by the rising sun
which bids me that it’s time to rise
and greet the new day just begun.
In perfect peace and quietness.
The grey stone walls now tinged with gold
I look towards the distant sea
Enjoy the beauty I behold
I am content as I should be.
08/08/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Spaces
Space
No center, no above, no below
Ceaselessly devouring and engendering itself
Whirlpool space
And drop into height
Spaces
Clarities steeply cut
Suspended
By the night's flank
Black gardens of rock crystal
Flowering on a rod of smoke
White gardens exploding in the air
Space
One space opening up
Corolla
And dissolving
Space in space
All is nowhere
Place of impalpable nuptials
poem by Octavio Paz
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In praise of older women for M lady Ernestine
There is beauty in old age
which younger girls can’t emulate
As if the lady’s reached the stage
where she need not dissimulate
She’s not afraid to let you see
the lines that life’s writ on her face.
Each wrinkle was earned honourably
each laughter line has earned its place
Cosmetics may conceivably
appear to slow the passing years
but only temporarily
before you are reduced to tears
Youthful beauty soon fades away
no matter how hard you may try
by artifice to make it stay.
In lucky ladies replaced by
A much longer lasting beauty
which shows from somewhere deep inside
without a trace of vanity
Though grace and dignity abide.
Old ladies can be beautiful
and often turn a young man’s head.
Although they are quite comfortable
accepting compliments unsaid.
Admiring glances from young men
who readily appreciate
The beauty of older women
is something youth can’t imitate.
Young women lack maturity
which older ladies can display.
Their youthful insecurity
somehow always gets in the way.
29-Jul-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Chronology is Bunkum For MY Lady Irene
The garden when the sun has set.
Becomes a very different place.
It is quite easy to forget
the fall of night cannot erase.
The beauty which we see by day.
A garden is a hallowed place.
The moon will rise to show the way
Light granted by the Goddess’ grace.
Moonlight will silver all we see.
My love and walk hand in hand.
The garden transformed magically
into our private fairyland.
The moon is smiling from on high
To see two lovers fond embrace
She knows full well the reason why
gardens by night are filled with grace.
There is a bench where we can sit.
Enjoy the quiet of night
Admire the roses silver lit
by gentle beams of soft moonlight.
The night wind rises turning cold
Remind us that its time for bed
We know that we are growing old
Surprised how quickly years have fled.
We won’t admit to being old.
Bar to each other privately.
Pretending to be young and bold.
Defying age aggressively.
Because you do not need to know.
It’s obvious we are mature
Our way of life sedate and slow.
Though you may guess you can’t be sure.
We won’t be old until we choose.
Determined to stay young at heart
Because we stubbornly refuse
To let the aging process start
27/07/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Pure Rationalisation for Friend Thad
A fly has been annoying me.
Persistently and constantly.
My conscience bids me not to kill.
But damn it all I think I will.
That fly will bother me no more.
I killed with a single blow.
I had endured it patiently.
At least an hour maybe more
It pestered me insistently
I had to even up the score
That fly will bother me no more.
I slew that fly intentionally.
It left me with no other course.
Perhaps in time I’ll feel remorse.
Though at the moment I feel pleased
That wretched fly is now deceased.
That fly will bother me no more
though I’m afraid my conscience will.
Sometimes we sin because we choose
although we know we should refuse
and listen to our inner voice.
That bloody fly gave me no choice.
That fly will bother me no more
I killed it quite deliberately.
I know I sinned and must atone
The fly would not leave me alone.
The fly not I caused the offence.
I think my argument makes sense.
The fly will bother me no more
Its death was more than justified.
21/07/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Singular Duality for M lay Catrina
The moon against the blue black night
A symbol of serenity
Bathes the world with silver light
a touch of surreality.
Far different to the world by day
which has no time for fantasy
The boring hum drum everyday
view of the world that most folks see.
The moonlight stimulates our dreams.
The interplay of light and shade
where nothing is quite as it seems.
The stuff of which all dreams are made.
The silver moon light can create
a moving tapestry of dreams
Produce in us a trance like state
and blend together without seams
reality and fantasy
Two worlds existing side by side
the moon somehow mysteriously
their difference can override.
I seize each opportunity
to see the shadows as they dance.
The moonlit night providing me
the time and place and circumstance.
26/04/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Three points of view experimental C&C
Him
My wife is beautiful to me.
But I am prejudiced you see.
I see the beauty deep within
Beneath the lines writ on her skin
by passing years but they can’t hide
The beauty which resides inside.
Her
My man is old and bent and gray
He didn’t always look that way
I see him as he used to be
but I am prejudiced you see
I see him in the prime of life
He is my man I am his wife.
Children
Although we three have always known
our Mum and Dad as being old.
Getting older as we have grown.
The memories we have and hold.
We tend to see them as they were
but somehow they seem smaller.
Dad’s not the man he used to be
but Mum is aging gracefully.
Dad may be looking old and bent,
to Mum he is magnificent
and he still thinks her wonderful.
His life time love and beautiful
Our parents taught us all they knew.
What we learned was how to
love and to live the way we should.
Though we have done the best we could
There is no way we can compare
to such a perfect pigeon pair.
We’re proud of them they’re proud of us
Though none of us kick up a fuss.
We know and we know they know
That in due course they both will go.
but leave behind a legacy
Love given unconditionally.
19-Jan-09.
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Long Forgotten for Friend David Threadgold
Who dares?
Disturb my peace
after so may years.
My sleep
was undisturbed.
Who is it dares to peep.
This grave
is mine alone.
It is all that I have.
To show
who I once was.
What do you seek to know?
My bones.
Are all that’s left
here beneath these stones.
Which mark
my resting place
Here in the quiet dark.
Begone
you have no right
in truth to look upon.
Remains
mouldering here
What do you hope to gain.
Leave me
in peace and go.
Your curiosity
Is no
concern of mine.
Why should you seek to know.
Why I
am buried here.
Dry bones will not reply.
My curse
will fall on you.
Things go from bad to worse.
Swiftly
flee from this place.
Where you’re not meant to be.
I lay
hidden from sight
for years until today.
Why do
you disturb me.
There is no reason to.
Leave me
to sleep in peace
here where I ought to be.
Alone
Contentedly
hidden away unknown
.14-Sep-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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It was not my fault.
I do not think fate deserves blame
For choices which we freely made.
There are no fixed rules in life's game
We have to learn from each mistake.
Sometimes we win sometimes we lose.
The choice we make may prove correct
The course of action which we choose.
May bring success. though I suspect
That when we lose we choose to blame
A cruel fate because we fail.
But we take credit just the same
when we succeed.We do not wail.
Instead we boast of our prowess.
We do not credit kindly fate.
With guiding us towards success.
Though it might be appropriate.
Instead we are very quick to blame
Fate for the times we don't succeed
She does not treat us all the same.
At least on that we are agreed.
Thursday,23 February 2012
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Shadow Dancers for M 'lady Amy
The shadow which throughout the day
have hidden quietly away.
In nooks and crannies which they know
Day is their time for lying low.
When darkness falls come out to play.
Although the sunlight rules the day.
The silver moon’s in charge by night
and she has granted them the right.
To freely frolic through the night
they do not fear her gentle light.
Though when the sunrise lights the skies.
They hide again if they are wise.
Perhaps the sleep all through the day
I do not know I cannot say.
I only know it’s my delight
to see the shadows dance at night.
They can appear and disappear
but they are far too fast I fear.
For human eyes to clearly see
the shadows dancing gracefully.
Our eyes accustomed to the light
don’t work efficiently at night.
Though sometimes watching quietly
You see them dancing silently.
17-Jan-09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Late Evening stroll for Friend Bob
Night falls swiftly and silently.
Across the quiet countryside.
The new moon shows through fitfully.
Although the dark clouds try to hide.
This slender crescent from our view.
They succeed only partially.
Soft silver beams keep breaking through
providing light so I can see.
Quite well enough to find my way.
The darkness does not frighten me
though I prefer the light of day
But still stroll contentedly
by paths familiar to me.
Which lead me home eventually.
14/07/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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I don't regret what might have been.
When the sun sets and the world is still.
I seek release in solitude
This is my time for memories
Some I can recall vividly
Selected from the multitude
Of dreams which I could not fulfil.
Some were my own and some were not
I can look back in retrospect.
Though some quite unexpectedly
Decide to surface suddenly.
Each one is worthy of respect
Although they have been long forgot.
The quiet time that lies between
The end of day and fall of night
Would seem to be appropriate
To sit alone and meditate
After the sun fades from sight
and contemplate what might have been.
Eventually I must conclude.
That I am where I’m meant to be
Some times I tried only to fail
My efforts were to no avail.
When I look back nostalgically
I know it’s just an interlude.
I’m well aware that all too soon.
I must accept reality.
The humdrum world of every day.
Is never very far away
And banishes my reverie
Beneath newly risen moon.
I face the morrow with a smile
Because I know the sun will set
Then I seek my solitude
Enjoy the peace and quietude.
That I so very seldom get.
If only for a little while.
I tend to stick to my routine
I am too old to change my ways
I see no reason why I should
The peace and quiet does me good
As I review my glory days.
I don’t regret what might have been.
Sunday,04 September 2011
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Feelings on Watching the Moon
Time hard year famine life land empty
Brothers live abroad each east west
Fields gardens few fall shield spear after
Bone flesh flow apart road road on
Hang shadow separate like 10,000 li goose
Leave root apart rise 9 autumn dishevelled
Together look bright moon should fall tear
One night home heart 5 place alike The times are hard: a year of famine has emptied the fields,
My brothers live abroad- scattered west and east.
Now fields and gardens are scarcely seen after the fighting,
Family members wander, scattered on the road.
Attached to shadows, like geese ten thousand li apart,
Or roots uplifted into September's autumn air.
We look together at the bright moon, and then the tears should fall,
This night, our wish for home can make five places one.
Object Lesson
Nobody cares, nobody dares.
Show sympathy to such as me.
I’m just a bum, an unwelcome
reminder that you too may com.
to know the depths of misery.
Although you do not want to see,
avert your eyes as you pass by.
You can ignore my plaintive cry.
I too was rich and would not see
that bums deserved some sympathy.
But fate stepped in and fate taught me.
Disaster can strike suddenly.
Reducing men to penury.
From great success to poverty.
Remember this it could be you
here begging for a buck or two.
Just pocket change you can well spare
Can make my life easier to bear
I’m still a man who needs to eat
although I’m living on the street.
You can pass by disdainfully
I learnt my lesson painfully
and so in time my friend could you
in the same way that I had to.
I would much rather earn my way
But fate took all I had away.
She sprang it on me by surprise
perhaps in order to chastise.
me for my inability.
To show a little charity.
to those who had much less than me
I suffered enforced bankruptcy.
I’m not the bum you choose to see.
Today you can look down on me
in the same way I chose to do.
when I was as blind as you.
14-Nov-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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When the time is right for M'lady Ernestine
Broad sonnet
We search for love to no avail. We try too hard and so we fail.
Although it may seem curious, fate knows much better than us.
When we are ready for a mate and then she does not hesitate.
She sets the time she sets the place, when she will bring us face to face.
With the partner of our dreams although to us it always seems.
That we have met by accident, but we did not it was by intent.
Fate knows exactly what we need and with her help we will succeed.
In finding what we have searched for. We don’t need to search anymore
We have been chosen carefully and who are we to disagree
We are quite sure our dreams come true, precisely as fate means us to.
It might be just co incidence, what matters is the consequence.
The end result is we got wed. I think that fate accomplished.
The task that she set out to do, for you love me and I love you.
You don’t find love, love will find you but not until it’s ready to..
Monday,22 March 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Selina sees our misery.
The moon mistress of mystery
has observed mankind’s history.
For centuries and centuries.
Though she has seen it all before
Mankind’s love of making war
Against her rules which men ignore.
While trying to impose their will
on other men. They lack the skill
to come to terms and so they kill.
The goddess watches in despair.
Because her children do not dare
to show each other that they care.
All members of one family
and still they squabble endlessly
Instead of living peacefully.
In time perhaps they will mature
and change the course of their nature
She hopes but cannot be sure.
Because her children have free will.
And choose their way for good or ill.
The goddess waits and watches still.
A symbol of serenity
she waits and watches patiently.
Long suffering humanity.
Monday,16 August 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Absolute proof.
Absolute proof
Blood, sweat and tears don’t disappear
But always leave some trace behind.
Forensic science makes it clear
there’s always something we can find
A fibre here or just a hair.
A finger print that you have missed.
All tend to prove that you were there.
The smallest clue can still persist.
You’re sure; you’ll get away Scott free
The evidence says otherwise.
It will prove quite definitely.
Your alibi’s a pack of lies.
The final proof your DNA.
Will prove to you crime does not pay.
Wednesday,22 September 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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