Jean

Having posted my poem about me and Stephen King yesterday and heard a couple of comments about it, reminded of the time my husband Steve and I moved into out own home for the first time thirty four years ago. Thinking about the time we spent in that house prompted me to write of our experiences there in my todays strange but very, very true story. Make a cup of tea and sit down before you start because it is quite long.

Jean 

Quite early on in our relationship

Something less than a year in fact

We shared an interrelationship

That called for a degree of tact 

My husband had not said a word

‘Til one night sitting side by side

Stroking the cat while he purred

I said something I couldn’t hide 

“Ever feel that we are not alone”?

I’d wanted to say it for a while

Over time the thought had grown

He turned to me with a knowing smile 

He puffed through his cheeks a bit

“I though it was just me”, he sighed

“You’ve seen her”? Eyebrows a-knit

“Thank heavens for that” he cried 

“Where did you see her, and when”?

“At the top of the stairs at first”, I said

“In the hall, and the front bedroom then,

She doesn’t seem to know she is dead” 

We talked about her in total calm

No fear at all by either of us felt

She did not want to do us any harm

Dazed as to what the past had dealt 

We went to visit the previous owner

He called his wife to say we were there

To see if she knew our mystery loner

Hand to her mouth then the back of her hair 

We described the woman we had seen

Looks went back and forth at each other

“I have to say that it sounds like Jean”

That would be Bill’s poor dead mother 

Photo albums all brought to the table

Silence fell as Rosie rummaged through

This time it was we who were not able

To hide feelings, it was the woman we knew 

We came home with an old photograph

Of Jean dressed just as we saw her

Placed in a sturdy frame, her epitaph

On its final position we did then concur 

We said nothing to anybody else at all

Then my daughter went up to bed one night

Rushing back in, hands against the wall

“A lady on the stairs gave me such a fright” 

The teenager looked at us both and knew

That we knew, that much she quickly saw

What she had seen was completely true

Her outburst loud as she laid done the law 

We should have warned her, a ghost was here

She slowly calmed down and asked at last

“Why aren’t you scared, do you have no fear”?

From one to the other her eyes were cast 

We knew not why Jean was still in our home

And likewise she knew not why we were

She didn’t speak but continued to roam

We stopped in our tracks at a look from her 

A friend house-sat once when we were away

And on our return he gave us a warning

“There’s a ghost in this house, don’t say nay,

Dressed in black as if she is in mourning” 

The only physical thing that ever occurred

Just a little adjustment from time to time

The photo was faced down without a word

No special reason, no comment, no rhyme 

She never bothered or worried us at all

We lived there for years without dread

But suddenly she went away as we recall

Then we heard that her only son was dead 

She was waiting for him or so it seemed

The thought I had firm set in my mind

Her journey to heaven delayed she’d deemed

Not to leave her beloved son William behind

 

Me and Stephen King

During the build up this winter toward the big Challenge for my 75 birthday Charity fund raising for the Chestnut Tree House children's hospice there has been so much extra to do arranging everything in readiness for the summer effort that some things have had to move onto the back burner. One of those things is my book reading. I am still reading but at a slower rate not getting through so many books. That is where Stephen King comes in because I have quite a thing for him, so entertaining, I usually whizz through anything he writes but even HE has been pushed gently aside for now.
www.justgiving.com/Daphne-Belt

Me and Stephen King

My love affair with Stephen King

Over many years an on going thing

I chose carefully my starting point

Avoiding him with fear, me to anoint

The Girl who loved Tom Gordon

My beginners edge to cordon

Gentle introduction it may be said

Then soon every third character dead

It’s his writing skill that has me hooked

Now in advance each work is booked

To name a favourite so hard for me

Under The Dome, or Duma Key

Reading Dreamcatcher? It’s a ‘yes’ from me

The Stand, kept me quiet from dawn ’til tea,

11.22.63 what thought provocation

Did everyone share my reading elation?

Complete change so often as with Blaze,

I wish life was longer, reading many more days

Now S.K. ‘s fully accepted in my life

I am coping better with the scary strife

Now the rotting flesh and Shining vapour

I take in my stride my fear I can taper

Bring it on Mr King, you don’t scare me

I read you at bedtime and sweet dreams see

Sharks

This is the one thing thought that really bugs me and has done throughout my entire 25 years of triathlon training and competition. It is my one big fear and I am not ashamed to admit it. I can understand why some people don't ever go in the sea to swim if they have a fear of anything that is under the surface of the water. Swimming over a submerged breakwater can make you jump if it suddenly looms up beneath you when you are swimming along parallel with the shore. Some people don't even like it if they touch a piece of seaweed. Swimming into an empty coke or a piece of driftwood can halt your rhythm for a moment. So why should I not admit that I am afraid of sharks?
There it is, out in the open. I am afraid of sharks.
www.justgiving.com/Daphne-Belt To donate to the Chestnut Tree House Children's Hospice if you wish, and if you do I thank you.

Sharks 

On holiday in San Diego, we took part in a sea swim there

We enjoyed it so much that we entered it again the next year

Some time after we saw on the television news where

Another swimmer practising for the same event I was aware

Killed by a Great White Shark, in an attack so rare

So horrendous I could only read the news and stare 

Solana Beach, California, where we had so often been

Thank God, when we swam, Dolphins were all we had seen

Off our English shores we don’t have creatures so mean

We are assured that our water is safe as well as fairly clean

Those who fish here say that Sharks are almost unseen

 And they hardly ever come here to grace our scene 

Only in the height of summer do Basking Sharks appear

Harmless creatures trawling for plankton gracefully they veer

Mouths bigger than dustbins lids out there beyond the pier

Maybe mistake me for plankton in my swimming career

I find the logic of its feeding habit is not entirely clear

A shark of any shape or size would fill me heart with fear 

I have seen sharks when I swimming of a Florida shore

One of the few holiday memory’s there that I still deplore

They were only little but I thought, two of many more

Maybe they were harmless; but present, and way inshore

My confidence and valour doesn’t stretch to sharks, be sure

My fear is meeting such a creature not seen here before

Lashing gales again

August is my birthday month and I am pretty much a sun baby so these constant gales and storm get to be very depressing. I had a beautiful card today from a friend in sunny Florida with lovely spring blossom all over it as a reminder that spring just may turn up in the fullness of time. Thanks for the reminder Tom.

No contest 

As usual I start to feel sad

When summer fades

And I am prompted once more

To think of autumn’s shades 

To make myself feel better

About the winter time

And what was yet to come

In our the cooler clime 

I list the things I like

About the winter days

Not the influenza strike

Not the fog and haze 

Search for something nice

To mark upon my list

Snow is the only pretty thing

I grudgingly insist 

TV shows the winter sport

That’s a treat for me

Ice dancers skilfully cavort

Or a fireside winter tea 

Not much of a contest there

My list is far too short

The cold and rain are hard to bear

Nature should this time abort 

I’m so against this winter test

There is no choice to choose

What time of the year is then the best

Summer wins and you winter, lose

Bad start to the weekend when the alarm went off at a strange fantasy time in the middle of the night. Disturbing me when I am fast asleep can be a big mistake! Clocks have died for this before! Then I got up and walked into the kitchen at 3.30 again at 4.15, 5.30 and at 5.50 I gave up and made coffee.
The one day out of seven when my schedule does not normally start with the 5.25 alarm call. My husband slept on until 7am. He is in charge of the alarm clock and wonders why I am mad at him. I am confused enough as a person without having my new post holiday sound sleep pattern shattered.
Another two sided part of my thinking is that part of me wants to carry on with an active sporting life forever and the other more cautious part of my begs me to take care. This lot of drivel that I have selected today is  'One I did earlier', as they say on TV. In my list it is number 85. and that means I must have written it around early August 2013 It suits my mood of the day. 

She and Me 

You’re not getting any younger I tell my inner self,

She thinks she is about twenty seven I would say

I should try being more sensible, start thinking of my health

Looking at me from the mirror she’s seventy if she’s a day 

It’s the hidden woman who likes running through the trees

The older one must carry her as the wind blows through our hair

The trouble maker hiding still feels the cooling breeze

But doesn’t have the creaking joints and doesn’t have a care 

Oh, come on honey, gimme a break I‘m feeling tired today

Looks like rain is on the way, stay home and read a book

You could loose a pound or three she will disapproving say

My crop pants on and trainers knowing I can’t get off the hook 

Starting with a brisk uphill walk from where I parked the car

Come on sweetie, push yourself, you know you want to really

Let’s do the 10K loop, what d’ya say, it’s really not that far

We’ll feel better when we finish it’s true, I know that clearly 

The me, with all the aches and pains, says again it looks like rain

The other one who’s pushing me thinks it will pass us by

At my age I should not get wet, she thinks that I’m insane

Emerging from woods to clearer ground I see the clouds and sigh 

She has no pity and drives me on up to the hillside’s crown

Oh dear pet, sorry, what can I say, you were right after all

 First gently then heavy the rain falls and the outer lady drowns

 Better put that coat back on I hear the safe inner girlie call 

As dark cloud edges over us raindrops dripping off my nose

Its strangely not unpleasant this summer rain she uttered

That’s ‘cos you’re not the one who’s getting wet I suppose

Soaked now to the skin, not friends with you, I muttered

Back to earth with a bump

The first week after a holiday is always tough and I have only just today got back to thinking that I am ready for work next week, without a backlog of jobs to do. I missed skiing on my Swiss holiday but worked out in the gym every day when Steve skied all morning. I did plenty of walking too and exercised my lungs yelling at the bob and skeleton teams. And, this is a hard thing for somebody who has accepted part time insomnia to the point where it never bothers me, I have slept like a log since I got home. This one then about giving up skiing.

To Ski or Not to Ski, That is the Question 

Skiing has been a great sporting love

Giving more than thirty years of pleasure

The crowded lifts the push and shove

A fun way to spend my winter leisure 

Each year I improved in my ability

I was sure of myself on any run

I grew in confidence and agility

Daily on the first lift up to join the fun 

The energy to ski was not for me a chore

Or standing gawking at the top station

Stunned to silence every time that’s sure

And hurtling down filled me with elation 

I worked my way into higher classes

And welcomed each new skiing test

The latest kit and my new sun glasses

I skied all day with so little rest 

Undaunted by speed as the years rolled on

Thinking then that I would ski for ever

Winter sports had an addiction hold on

I’d miss a snow filled holiday never   

One or two times perhaps in a week

A fall found me tumbling and sliding

I wondered if I had passed my peak

Then rising up again and gliding 

Over the last ten years or so, I found

It felt like I fell a little harder maybe

Sure it hurt more when I hit the ground

The years taking their toll to a degree 

Over the years until the point where

Injuries got worse, took too long to heal

The consideration to ponder there

Was should I abandon my winter zeal 

The choice to be made was if I ought

For a week or two of snow on the slopes

Compromise my year round sport

Weeks recovering and dashed spring hopes 

So I still enjoy a week holidaying in snow

But save myself for my multi sport world

I miss the skiing but not the falls you know

In a swim, bike and run events now totally hurled.

Changing from white to green

After a marvellously restful winter holiday week in the mountains where everything everywhere was white with snow that fell in two bouts of thirty six hour non stop flurries, the train brought us to Zurich where it is dull and green. That set my mind on another journey of thought.

Thinking in Green 

When I think of green I think of

My Sunday run over the grassy downs

A peaceful scene where sheep graze

And of mournful Red Kite sounds  

When I think of green I think of 

The sea and how the movement drifts

Restless pulsing power of the water

And of the ever changing light shifts 

When I think of green I think of

Spring and tiniest flower shoots

That can push through solid concrete

And yet still be crushed by boots 

When I think of green I think of

Summer fronds of the weeping willow

Gentle floating on the slightest breeze

Yet holds firm in harsh wind billow 

When I think of green I think of

Of blue paint with yellow mixed

Two defiantly different shades

Show opinions should not be fixed 

When I think of green I think of

A glass cross I wear around my neck

The colour of faith in my mind

A reminder to my behaviour check