Tea

"Let us not speak,for the love we bear one another -
    Let us hold hands and look."
She ,such a very ordinary little woman;
    He,such a thumping crook;
But both,for a moment,little lower than the angels
    In the teashop's ingle-nook.

In A Bath Teashop - John Betjeman


That poem by Betjeman is one of my favourites as it could describe any couple but it could be us as well.

Actually teashops are coming back in fashion again and places like the Mock Turtle in Brighton are doing a booming trade as people switch from the overpriced coffee in establishments like Starbucks to cheaper and better for you tea.Personally i love tea,and just brewed up again.

Another delayed payment for work done and this time from our own council. At least i have an apology and a guarantee it will be dealt with on Friday next week!

Drinks only mystery shopping visit to Worthing this evening. I shall stick to white wine as it's less fattening than beer.

Just one new record this week as i prefer to wait for Sunday boot fair days,and with the crdit crunch keeping tight on the fiscal front. 

Bigger Booty breaks ((BBB LP)

Full of funky soul and reggae breaks..

Autumn

              How like a winter hath my absence been

              From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!

              What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!

              What old December's bareness everywhere!

              And yet this time remov'd was summer's time,

              The teeming autumn, big with rich increase,

              Bearing the wanton burthen of the prime,

              Like widow'd wombs after their lords' decease:

              Yet this abundant issue seem'd to me

              But hope of orphans and unfather'd fruit;

             For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,

             And thou away, the very birds are mute;

             Or if they sing, 'tis with so dull a cheer

             That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near.

A Shakespear sonnet.

A definite autumnul chill in the wind today bears witness to winter being not far away with dark evenings  and shorter days,so whilst it is still sunny and relatively warm let's make the most of it.

Ganja

Poppies In july







Little poppies,little hell flames,
Do you do no harm?

You flicker, I cannot touch you.
I put my hands among the flames. Nothing burns.

And it exhausts me to watch you.
Flickering like that., wrinkly and clear red,like the skin of a mouth.

A mouth yet blooded.
Little bloody skirts!

There are fumes i cannot touch.
Where are your opiates,your nauseous capsules?

If I could bleed, or sleep! -
If my mouth could marry a hurt like that!

Or your liquor seep in me,in this glass capsule.
Dulling and stifling

But colorless. Colorless.

 Sylvia Plath




Of opiates  that have been consumed i have just had the last lot of ganja resin to put me in that mellow mood before my drink only visit to Worthing. (Courtesy of TNS).

Enjoying reading anthologies of both Plath and Betjeman poems,as ye may gather.