Service

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British NCOs WW1, Image – A family photo from Padre’s Ramblings

It is Armed Forces Day in the UK.  It is marked annually at the end of June to commemorate the service of men and women of the British Armed Forces.  It is similar to the American Veterans’ Day, though it is more recent, having been created in 2006 (as compared to the US’ celebration which dates to the 1950s).  Although an official event, it is not a public holiday in the UK.

Service

Service isn’t just a thing that you do

I really needs to be part of you

Prepared on behalf of other’s – to enter the fray

Waiting to count the risks “on some other day.”

To serve, to protect, even sacrifice

Is what it is to enter that way of life

 

Padre

 

 

Cheddar

imageedit_1_6815356034 (1)

To gorge on Cheddar – is a thing I crave

Mature ripe cheeses – aged in a cave

First created – surplus milk to save,

It soon caught on, becoming quite a rave

If from the Gorge, “Authentic Cheddar” – is the name it’s gave

But supermarket cheeses – merely give the title a wave

For some – to eat the real stuff – is something brave

For some of these cheeses are aged in a grave*

 

Padre

 

* Aging racks can be seen in Gough’s Cave as well as Cheddar Man

 

Saturday Mix – Rhyme Time:

  1. save
  2. brave
  3. cave
  4. wave (or waive)
  5. gave
  6. grave

What a Relief

 

People, Leisure, Couple, Relaxing

Pixabay

Time to relax, the summer’s begun

World of Concrete – behind me

Now for some much needed sun.

Kids to summer camp

Have been sent away

Sand and sea before me

To fill up my day.

Straw hat on my head,

Margarita in hand,

Crash of waves to serenade me

On my comfy lounger bed.

 

Padre

 

 

Craft a poem on the these of “What a Relief, “using at least 4 of the following 7 words and phrases:

smooth sailingsharkconcretewax sealsummer campmargarita, and straw hat.

 

I still might not be the time for such escapes, but let’s hope the world-wide crisis abates so we can again find such reliefs.

Battle Of Words

Rap-battle movie surprisingly self-aware - Winnipeg Free Press

image: Wikipedia

I have recently come across a YouTube channel called Epic Rap Battles of History.  I love the use of verbal play and cadence, and how it is employed to teach history and literature on this site.  I cannot personally rap for beans, but I do like the form.  Please check out the links below the poem, there is a lot to explore for those of you unfamiliar with it.

I’m no battler. I lack the flow.

I can’t drop bars; cuz I’m much to slow.

A sonnet or cinquain, their my thing

But I can’t rap – for anything

And it’s like Weird Al, cuz I’m White and nerdy

I am nonetheless a fan of all things wordy

No, it’s more like – a personal thing

Just look at Yahzick, that “nerd” can sing

 

Padre

 

Epic Rap Battle – Literature:

 

Epic Rap Battle – History (A bit rude):

 

Epic Rap Battle – Philosophy  (Warning contains a lot of swearing):

 

Weird Al:

 

Yahzick:

Her Every Command

Desert Fox, Fennec Fox, Zoo, Animal, Small, Ears

Image by WagnerAnne from Pixabay 

“Honey do” and Honey don’t

Every word – to be obeyed

Even if contradictory

Leaving you dismayed

 

You may think you’ve heard it all before

Same old thing – on another day

Have you listened close enough

To think why it might be that way?

 

Listen carefully – Don’t just hear

Find the meaning in the things she may say

Her words may not be about the things you do

But in how you understand, and love each day

 

Padre

 

Féileacán

Blue Morpho, Butterfly, Rainforest

Pixabay

Oh Féileacán –

Dancer in the sky

Bright celebration of colour

A festival of joy – as you flutter by.

Boldly spinning pirouettes among the buddleia

And yet you are so shy

Taking flight at just the slightest breeze

Or when anyone approaches nigh.

Stay with me but for a moment more

Please don’t say goodbye

Let me your company keep

My life to beautify.

 

Padre

 

 

 

 

 

The Piece

Rust, Wall, Texture, Old, Vintage, Rustic, Grunge, Door

Pixabay

Andre had no formal qualifications, but he loved to paint and draw, and he had even tried his hand at some sculpting in wire.  He had become proficient in doing city-scapes, and eked out a meagre living selling them to tourists.

His “studio” was no more than a garden shed.  It was there that he transformed the sketches he made while waiting for customers into paintings.

One evening there was a ferocious evening storm.  It seemed to rock the very foundations of his humble home.  In the morning, Andre discovered that a tree had fallen onto the roof of his beloved shed, collapsing the roof.   Shelves had tumbled, and canvases and paints alike were strewn willy-nilly about the ruins.

There would be no sales that day as Andre began to pick through to detritus of his livelihood.  He managed to salvage two completed paintings of the Lion Bridge, and three other canvases which were salvageable, though they were splattered with assorted paint and garden grime.  The grim task completed, he went inside to await the slim possibilities of the next day.

In the morning, he carried his remaining artwork to the Lion Bridge, and set the two extant works against the railings, in the hope of drawing some custom.  With no studio to work in, he next took one of spattered canvases and placed it upon an easel.  He was just starting to paint a faint outline of one of the lion sentinels onto the canvas when a distinguished looking couple approached.

The hatchet-faced lady picked up one of the completed paintings and held it up to her gentleman companion.  The man pulled a face, and the pair both shook their heads disapprovingly.   As the man picked up the other work to give it a closer examination, the woman stepped up to Andre’s work in progress.

“Reginald,” she called in a nasally noise, “I think I have found just the piece for above the fireplace in the villa.”

 

Padre

 

Tale Weaver – #281 – Artwork

Magic They Display

Girl, Woman, Fairy, Elf, Wings, 3D

Pixabay

Among the heliotrope and pansies

Sprites and Pixies dance – when we’re away

Our green-fingered efforts

In which we take such pride

They smile broadly at –

Then true magic they display

They giggle at our arrogance

Our endeavours they deride

They think it such jolly sport

To conjure blossom when we’re inside

The Fairies chase, and sing, and play

Cover taking when e’re we appear

Amid the sweet scents of rich perfume

Wishing for our exit – swift

Their merry games to resume

 

Padre