A quick sketch, I think my barnacles are a bit big, although we do have rather large ones here.
A day of playing and nothing to show for it but lots of ideas to do down the track.
I found a heap of pencils and oil pastels and various other things in a drawer I was cleaning out and have now put them where I can find them easily (I hope!)
I have been to the physio, done a walk down to look at the weaned foals, and now cant work out which is which! Bad girl, should know them all.
John has put up what I hope will be a fox proof fence around the hen house, it is in a much larger yard so the wretches have two fences to get through now if they want to eat my hens.
I am still wandering through the Australian Voices and came across this poem of David Campbells which I have always loved. Actually I love most of his poems, a lovely Australian poet.
Mothers and daughters
The cruel girls we loved
are over forty,
their subtle daughters
have stolen their beauty;
And with a blue stare
of cool surprise,
they mock their anxious mothers
with their mothers' eyes
2 comments:
Loved that poem. Reminded me of a friend who recently went with her daughter to visit husband/father who has dementia. He thought the daughter was his wife - she is so like her mother was when she was young.
Hello Penny,
Poems about mothers and daughters are important to write because we often stop short of telling the truth in a relationship which may have been uncomfortable for years. We wake up a bit when we have our own children.
Wendy
Post a Comment