Archive for April 8, 2012

the 7×7 award

The most romantic poet I know David Eric Cummins (I don’t know if he is related to the poet E. E. Cummings, I should ask perhaps) nominated me kindly for an award: the 7×7 blog award! I am very grateful. Thank you David!

The rules of this award:

1. Tell everyone something they don’t know about you.

I am a Mensa member. I know, I know, I know. I surprised myself too lol. I don’t really come across as smart I think. And I am aware of the image of total uselesness this organization has to many.
But at the time, 1986, it was fun to do, as I did the test in Utrecht and that is where my pen pal, now husband, lived. πŸ™‚

2. Link to posts on your blog that you think best fit the following categories:

Most Beautiful- today for me that would be Your face
Most Helpful- I don’t think I have one for that category!
Most Popular- Chased
Most Controversial- see above, Chased. πŸ™‚
Most Surprisingly Successful- as well Chased
Most Underrated- Also Chased.
Most Pride-Worthy- And this is Chased too I think. Okay, I like that poem πŸ™‚

3. Pass this award on to seven other bloggers.
Con Chapman His blogposts are the best in its genre πŸ™‚
Journey into Poetry (Christine) She is really very good!
bardessdmdenton She is amazing, poetry and art.
fred whitehead He writes great poems!
Fourwindowspress – Thomas and Ethel
dribbling pensioner a blog that reads as a magazine
Benny Thomas he is a fantastic poet and artist


When late in the evening
the tired ferry slowly enters the harbour,
rocking strongly there for the last time today,
after a rough sea journey,
all on board look weary and grey.
Silent people, nothing to do with glamour.

Been to hospital and back, been to family.
Been to funeral, nothing to mention,
so much to think and to worry about.
Hollow eyes that see no prospect.
Eyes in faces that have known each other for life.
A kind nod is all, telling the stories not needed.

Then the moment comes, where all are waiting for,
as the lighthouse shines a beam over them in redemption.
To be near home, to have made it again,
in spite of diagnosis, expectations, like so often before.
As a mother the light has been waiting for her children,
and gives a calming sign to guide them in port.

Some hidden smiles, this is the one,
victorious, moment in the day to enjoy,
now, late in the evening.
They all manage a hoarse β€œsee you later”
when they step out on the cold quay once more.
Home. Now they are fine.

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