Yes, another… Just before bedtime… It’s about time I introduced you to my divine niece, Lily Ahlberg. Enjoy.
Monthly Archives: October 2011
A small thought…
Sex and Sensibility
I’ve just been sent this link.
I want to dance like that.
Now. Tomorrow. Always.
Why?
Final (For the moment…) Edit
With a nod and a wink and a thank you to my wonderful Monday night comrades…
If she were here, he would ask her, why?
No. If she were here, he would tell her she was fine, just as she was. He would tell her she was clever and funny and wild, his friend, his lover, his familiar, everything he wanted in a woman, in a person, in his life. But hadn’t he told her? Why hadn’t she understood?
He remembered the day they met. The sight of her un-coupled his brain from his tongue, silenced him, mid-sentence. She heard him speak, turned to look, the sun catching her face full on. Her pale eyes held, magnified and reflected its rays and she dazzled him.
He had gazed into those eyes whenever he could, puzzling over exactly what colour they were. They would change, along with the weather, along with her mood. He never managed to pin down the shade with a name and now he never would. Everything showed in her eyes. That first night, he fell into them, swam down into their blue-flecked-green-grey depths and when he surfaced he knew her. He had seen her pain, her fear, her desire, all of her.
He loved and she loved back. It took a while to gain her trust but once she took that final leap, they never looked back. She was his last lap. His forever love. They were to grow old together.
She was dreading her birthday, railed against turning fifty. Youth’s charisma grew stronger even as he felt his promise wane. He’d tried to appeal to her intelligence, her logic, her sense of humour. He’d tried to allay her fears, understand her concerns, reassure her that her age was irrelevant to him, that he would love her whatever, whenever. But he failed.
She didn’t tell him what she planned to do, said she was taking a holiday, taking time out, time to lie in the sun, time to write. He said, good. You need it. You deserve it. You take all the time in the world. He didn’t think she would.
He wanted to ask why she felt the need to alter her appearance, to appear ageless, to lose the years from her face?
He wanted to know why she’d chosen a clinic in Lithuania where they didn’t explain the dangers of smoking right up until the day of the operation; the strain the anaesthetic could place on her heart: her heart that held within it his heart?
He wanted to know whether she was happy now, forever forty-nine, forever stilled by time, forever alone, just a few handfuls of pale grey dust and grit and tiny fragments of white bone.
He wanted to tell her, he would have loved her loosening jowls, her laughter lines, her frowns, the tiny puckers etched into her lips, the crepeyness of her chest, her wrinkled knees, her sagging breasts, her beautiful, wonderful mind and her sun-filled, blue-flecked-grey-green eyes.
Why?
And final (ha ha) edit of poem… but I think I prefer the story.
If she were here, he would ask her why?
No.
He would tell her she was fine
just as she was,
clever and funny and wild,
his lover, his familiar, his friend,
his life.
But hadn’t he told her?
Why hadn’t she understood?
He remembered the day they met.
The sight of her
un-coupled his brain from his tongue,
silenced him, mid-sentence.
She heard him speak, turned to look,
the sun catching her face full on.
Her pale eyes reflected its rays
until she dazzled him.
He gazed into those eyes
whenever he could,
puzzling over exactly what colour they were.
They would change,
along with the weather,
along with her mood.
He never managed to pin down the shade
with a name
and now he never would.
Everything showed in her eyes.
He fell into them,
swam deep into
their blue-flecked-green-grey depths.
And when he surfaced
he knew her,
for he had seen all of her.
He loved and she loved back.
It took a while to gain her trust,
but once she took that final leap of faith,
they never looked back.
She was his last lap.
His forever love.
They were to grow old together
…but how she railed against that.
Youth’s charisma,
appeared to be stronger
than all his promise.
He appealed to her intelligence,
her logic, her sense of humour,
tried to reassure her
that her age was irrelevant
to him.
He told her he would love her,
whatever.
But she didn’t listen.
If she were here, he would ask her,
was she was happy now-
forever forty-nine,
forever stilled by time,
forever alone,
no more than a few handfuls
of pale grey dust and grit
and tiny fragments of white bone?
And if she were here, he would tell her,
he would have loved her loosening jowls,
her laughter lines,
her frowns,
the tiny puckers etched into her lips,
the crepeyness of her chest,
her wrinkled knees,
her sagging breasts,
her beautiful, wonderful mind
and her sun-filled, blue-flecked-grey-green eyes.
Friday 28th October 2011
I had such a lovely birthday. Jo drove down from oop north with Joseph and Evie collecting Isaac from Leeds on the way. Everyone arrived for lunch and Fergus had requested blinis with smoked salmon and sour cream. We enjoyed them with some pink fizz and I opened a wonderful pile of presents.
Ankle socks with silk fringed tops, a gold bird ring, a silver leaf ring, a jar of glittery skulls, a dangly painted sign that instructs everyone to ‘Be nice… Or leave,’ a fab photography book on ‘Awkward Family Photos’ and a beautiful picture painted specially for me by Fergus! Such talented children… What a lucky girl am I…
I cooked huge curries for supper, a lamb and spinach madras and a chicken korma. Ma and Pa joined us and were on fine form. Lots of wine and Beer. Lots of chat and music and laughter. Lots of love. Gorgeous.
Oh… And some great wrapping paper… Jo and I have obviously got the message home to our children about us women re-appropriating an honest, good and much maligned word… 
Thanks to all for lovely birthday messages, texts, phone calls and visits, hugs and kisses. Nice.
A small thought…
I like these, very much-
I will set you free
You are not alone
http://www.Chiquero.wordpress.com- one of my favourite blogs at the mo…
