Shelter

My Mini Tri Challenge has been going well and fund raising shows that since the total raised now stands at £3665 and that is very pleasing. Number 23 was completed this morning which makes it 30% done and that is very satisfying too. Fingers, eyes and legs crossed, I can report that I am feeling fine apart from a being little bit more tired than usual and that I am starving hungry most of the time.
The two offerings today are the result of my attempt to stick out a whole evening at poetry and book reading evening last night. It was originally set to be in a theatre and was changed then to a studio and finally to a bar in the theatre. I don't go in bars very often but that is not to say that I don't enjoy a glass or two of wine with a meal. This evening was on a sweltering summer evening in an upstairs room into which the sunlight was pouring. There was a room full of people that I did not know and I was alone. I thought I was going to pass out and make a scene but thankfully I made it to the interval when I made my getaway. By the time I got home I was sweating in an unladylike fashion, my ears were ringing horrendously and I was glad that Steve presented me with a large strawberry ice cream to cool me down.

Panic 

Panic

Floods my being

Hearing the buzz and seeing

The group of people gathered there

In the theatre bar to where

I now feel I have mistakenly come

By my normal measure and rule of thumb 

Panic

Almost has me on the run

There is no way I will find this fun

Torturous feeling have taken hold

Hidden at the back not comfortable in this fold 

Panic

In case somebody comes over to talk

If I see one coming I’ll run not walk

Stay for a while and give it a chance

Dare I look up and catch a glance

 

 

Shelter

I am just a child

Not much more than a toddler

Where I sleep is in what they call

The front room.

My bed almost fills the room,

An old standard issue iron air raid shelter.

Upstairs I have a room where I can play

My toys are there

The bed is not made up, bare.

Once I am bathed

And in my flannelette nightie

Mother pulls the blackout curtains

And lights the gas fire

Turns it down low for a while

She must turn it off later

When she goes to bed.

Sometimes I hear the siren

It goes off in the night

Mr. and Mrs. Taylor live next door

I hear them through the adjoining wall

He shouts very loudly to his wife.

“The bombs is droppin’ mother

Have to go down to the shelter”.

“What d’ya say”? She shouts back

Her voice all trembly.

“The bombs is dropping mother,

THE BOMBS IS DROPPIN’.

The bombs were dropping.

My mum and brother

Have come downstairs

They get in bed with me

We all cuddle each other

That bit is nice.

My dad isn’t there,

He is a soldier,

A sergeant in the army.

He comes home sometimes.

I wake again and they have left

And its quiet.

 

 

 

 

A View on Sunday

Today is the start of the second week of my 75 Mini Triathlon Challenge, this was day number 8 and also, at the turn around point of the 12 km bike ride which is the end of Lavinia Drive it meant that 10% has been completed. I feel pretty happy about that, a marker passed. Beautiful day for it the only slight glitch was the man in the pool who had failed to understand the meaning of the words 'Public Swimming Pool'. He was a large man and did breast stroke that reached over one lane wide and insisted in having that entire area to himself. The three of us swam 1000 metres front crawl in a space that was one slim person's body width wide. We call this 'Lane Rage'. We did not make a scene. We passed each other in sideways slithers peacefully co-operating and leaving him all the room he wanted. The bike and run went very well, the beautiful day being appreciated by swarms of people all out early walking, jogging, biking and even a paddle boarder all making the most of such a wonderful day. Coffee followed watching the swans showing off their brood of six fluffy grey cygnets.
  

A View on Sunday 

A simple lush meadow looks somehow

Un-blemished by a horse or a cow

This sunny mid July morning

Strikes me to a halt my thoughts forewarning. 

There is a tight, thick, round stand of trees

Shaped like a cottage loaf looking at distant seas

Peacefully posing centre stage they pause

As if receiving audience applause. 

The formal group stand surrounded

By the greenest green crop bounded

Like a huge theatre set here

As if a principle dancer would appear 

With thick dark green trees

Only hinting at a waft of breeze

Diminishing to the bluest blue sky

Quietly in wait as they grow so high  

Standing like waves stepping out of the wings

A still vista yet bursting with life it springs

Slow to depart, so perfect is the scene

The strange sad drama of the verdant sheen

Calm

Having just waited for a while the thunder and lightning to stop!!!!!
Sea swim to start of tri this morning. Experimental route. Usual club swim start out to the basket, then out to the new buoy that has been placed to mark the outer edge of the brand new Shingle Bank that nature built during the storms last winter. So in case anybody else is wondering. No you cannot stand again at that point. Current running enthusiastically. On approaching the beach, we noticed that somebody had formed a word on the shoreline using Cuttlefish, we thought at first that it said Denmark! Blimey I thought that current WAS strong. But it was the name of another swim club- Aardvarks. Then on to the bikes. Got totally drenched again and sang several verses and choruses of Singing In The Rain. Slowly stopped raining during the run. Mini Tri Number 7. Done yesterday, number 7. starts in an hour from now.

 

Calm 

Wanting the sun to shine all through the day to sunset’s glows

Passing from day to day as smoothly as a ballerina’s glissade

An evening of your favourite music shows

An opera, Tosca, or Carmen’s highs and lows

Waiting for something calmly is much more hard. 

More likely to ponder it when in an absent minded state

We realise the world at large is a far from ideal place

We know that for certain such is fate

Art is merely therapy soothing away troubles brought of late

I see too soon that we all dread the final place to which we race.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Out of the Woods

Well, after all the dreaming and planning this fairly big Challenge of mine it is finally underway. The project was a year in the making and I have been accused of being totally insane on a good number of occasions.

Today is Day 5. Of Daf's Mini Tri Challenge. There were times when it seemed impossible but after the first few are now in the bag, I am starting to feel happier about the whole thing. The first couple of days were sunny and pleasant but then on the third day it was a little colder and it rained. The weather on day 4 was seriously bad and though I put my bike shoes in the airing cupboard over night they were still damp earlier today but I consoled myself by thinking about the guys doing the Giro D'Italia that I watched for the duration and it seemed to rain most of the day, most days, as well as climbing into the snow up huge mountain passes. So my efforts are humble in comparison. 70 Mini Tri's to go.

All of my efforts are a way of celebrating the fact that although I am approaching my 75th birthday I am also in pretty good health.... maybe a few pounds overweight but otherwise quite sound. All this is for charity www.justgiving.com/Daphne-Belt

This poem comes from my struggle last year to get back to fitness after a fall out running that left me in plaster for a while. We all have times when doubts fill our heads but like the weather recently things do change and its possible to focus again and move forward.

Out of the Woods 

Into the woods in fates dark sight

A less than easy path to take

Hidden there through fear and fright

Shadows sew a fiendish mistake

The cause and blame are mine outright

Acknowledged and unwelcome keepsake

Doubt careening uncontrolled, finite

What way, what way, what way retake 

Secret emotions held in tight

Slipping behind all standards fake

What ill disease has brought this blight

False impressions outward make

Terror tearing past contrite

In disorientated confidence quake

Lost and helpless lonely plight

What way, what way, what way retake 

Menacing phantom stands in limelight

Is it real this tight coiled snake

Despairing search up in starlight

Or can I from this nightmare wake

Take courage dragging soul to fight

And from the embers fire make

Take strengths firm hold to make all right

What way, this way your path remake 

Summon less feeble spirit bright

Come destiny flooding a smoother lake

Forge back the darkness push back the night

Pull back, the empty reserves forsake

All cowardice in banishing excite

Responsibility is mine for pity’s sake

Out of the woods and into the light

Pride in this victory is wide awake