Dans le monde entier.....
Dans le monde entier
All over the world
People must meet and part
There's someone like me
Feeling a pain in their heart
Maybe it's the time of year? The excessive joys (?) of Christmas are behind us; the New Year already looks jaded; winter is about to crash drunkenly through the doors.....
Shorry I'm late.....
Shorry I'm late.....
I listen to Patsy Cline singing 'Crazy' but for some reason think of Françoise Hardy....
Who knows where that connection comes from?
Who knows where that connection comes from?
Van Morrison, through a glass, darkly, doesn't clear the mists. Doesn't cut the mustard....?
Van ordinaire?
Van ordinaire?
The Roman God Janus has a lot to answer for. All this looking back, looking forward stuff. January is his month, and this was when I was born. Cold, and damp.
And this month our little one has flown away south to rift with her past, and her present,
to make a new start,
to make a new start,
To jump start the abandoned Rolls,
Somehow,
Somewhere.....
Some may meet again
Under that same bright star
If maybe some night
You come back from afar
Who cares if tonight
I don't know where you are?
Now that picture, from Afon Mawddach, makes me think of The Wind among the Reeds, W B Yeats....
When shall the stars be blown about the sky,
Like the sparks blown out of a smithy, and die?
Surely thine hour has come, thy great wind blows,
Far off, most secret, and inviolate Rose?
It is said that a picture is worth a thousand words.
Is it? What worth has a picture on its own? If we have no words to go with it, where is the meaning?
It's the connections. Those tiny flashing sparks that make a glow-worm put EDF Hinkley Point to shame.....
Or is that like asking for the sound of one hand clapping? If we can see, we can all see differently.
Red, green and blue may be the core colours of life and love, but who is to say you see what I see?
Are these poppies for remembrance?
Or do we forget?
Red, green and blue may be the core colours of life and love, but who is to say you see what I see?
Are these poppies for remembrance?
Or do we forget?
And if we can read, we can all read differently.
As Patsy Cline sings the words of Willie Nelson (stretched out on the deck of The [ironically named] Victory, gasping Kiss me, Françoise....)
Worry, why do I let myself worry?
Wondering what in the world did I do?
Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you
I'm crazy for trying and crazy for crying
And I'm crazy for loving you
All over the world
Others are sad tonight
There's someone like me
Watching the sun's fading light
Whether it's drawing out of Birmingham on a crowded train in winter......
Or driving over the Pennines in stormy summer.....
Or wandering by the Thames in early Autumn......
I wish you well, my little one.....
All over the sky
There is the same warm glow
Here under that star
I'm wanting you to know
Wherever you are
That I still love you so
Françoise Marie Aubine Hardy /Julian More
I will be there for you,
In the Jerusalem....
Best is yet to come and babe won't that be fine
You think you've seen the sun
But you ain't seen it shine
Frank Sinatra
For SRBG
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