Recently I did a little research on my Grandad as he had an unusual surname (at that time the only Flounder in Scotland ) ...and yes it is a name found in Yorkshire...yet I don't recall him having an accent. I don't even know how he came to be in Scotland. It's a pity that I don't know more about my own background. Unfortunately I came up against a brick wall on some aspects ...some skeleton in the cupboard I'm afraid.
But to return to " The Good Old Days ", How I would have loved to be on the stage - or more correctly - over it . For I'd have relished singing on a swing over the audience......" I'm only a bird in a gilded cage...."
My poem for this week was written in 1969...
Days that are Past 5/1/69
I'll come to you in the days that are past and we shall relive them. I can show you how to live and with your kiss I can die. You shall make me believe and I shall show you what believing is.
Believing is existing and loving every moment of it. To me, I can't believe that everything is itself alive and real- Pulsating , vibrating beneath my fingertips. Crying out to be loved, and to love in return.
The touch of bark can send a thrill to every inch of my soul. The smell of sea air can revive a broken spirit. The sight of flowers blooming can make me smile. I live for the sheer joy and gratitude For the life that has been bestowed to my body.
Thanks for reading my ramblings....Kath Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to Facebook
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