Crow's Song

In the bright grass Crow is singing
He is walking through the land
He is flying over the land
He is going to meet the sun

Ducks are sleeping by the pond
azure heads, one eye open
watching in the shimmer
Crow’s great journey to the sun

While the bees hum in procession
While the sun smiles down delighted
While the land admires its hero
In the bright grass Crow is singing.

© Copyright and all rights reserved Debbie Gallagher June 2014

Dream diary

Walking down into Blackheath with some people, finding a place which, in map terms, would vaguely equate with the road from the Sun-In-The-Sands pub/roundabout to St German's Place with Blackheath beyond it, but as is ever the way with dreamscapes, things had changed...There was no roundabout or road, just a walkway with water on either side almost level with it. Crossing the walkway I found myself on a platform where I could see hills around, verdant and lovely but different, with tropical vegetation like Malaysia or something. I wanted to see more, but the group insisted we go somewhere else and do something I can't even remember; all I know is that there was a ticket involved.

In ordinary life, the only real failure has been my inability to sit through The Kings Speech. After four attempts I have to face the fact that whatever everyone else thinks, I just cannot be doing with this film. There's a distinct lack of likeable characters. It maybe that Queen Victoria's womb was some kind of genius/creativity filter but I refuse to believe she never had one single gifted descendent. It must be that they squirrelled him/her away lest the pure brown of the Windsor consomme be sullied with actual talent. Here, the Queen Mother is just Helena B-C being saccharinespikey again, and the King is only coherent when he's cussing people and lighting a fag - nowt to do with his speech impediment, it's all about the epidemic of ridiculous accents. Never have I seen so many people try so hard to speak like typewriters. Bertie's stammer would have been the least irritating thing to hear amidst all this eau-ahh-eau-ahh-eau lark. If I'd had to live with it, I'd have taken up gin and cigarettes too.