Piano Virtuoso

~ Laurence McKinney

From Western Coast to Eastern Seaboard

Rages the battle of the keyboard,

For storming the piano-forte

Is famous as an Indoor Sport.

Surrounded by a hundred men

Like Daniel in the Lion's Den,

The virtuoso takes his seat

Preparing to resist defeat.

A few stray shots, with unconcern

He ducks, and coolly waits his turn,

It comes, and shooting flats and sharps

He knocks them for a row of harps.

Courageous as a stag at bay,

He's up, he's down, he's got away -

The fighting stops, the music ends.

They usually part as friends.

Pies, muffins and general craziness

I think that I could never spy

A poem as lovely as a pie

A banquet in a single course

Blushing with red tomato sauce

A pie whose crust is oven kissed

Whose gravy scalds the eater's wrist

The pastie and the sausage roll

Have not thy brown mysterious soul

The dark hues aborigine

Is less indigenous than thee;

As round and rich as Zara

As tasteful as Patrick White

With a glass of purple para

You're the great Australian bite.

BARRY HUMPHRIES, Piece in the Form of a Meat Pie

***

Actually that would be a picture of a muffin.  So what can I report? Watching too many Modern Family back episodes.  We all love it.  We are the Dunphys. Back to school this week.  Trying to learn times tables and maintain discipline over music practice. Rondos, lullabies and bell chimes.   Final semester of primary school for Charly.  Gasp.  Still haven't reconciled myself to the choice of high school. Grieving for what could be.  Not the least interested in the Olympics but will undoubtedly get excited over the big finals and the cultural opening and closing ceremonies. Heavens, completely forgot about Guides tonite.  So best off.

Ode on Solitude

~ Alexander Pope

Happy the man, whose wish and care

A few paternal acres bound,

Content to breathe his native air,

In his own ground.

Whose heards with milk, whose fields with bread,

Whose flocks supply him with attire,

Whose trees in summer yield him shade,

In winter fire.

Blest! who can unconcern'dly find

Hours, days, and years slide soft away,

In health of body, peace of mind,

Quiet by day,

Sound sleep by night; study and ease

Together mix'd; sweet recreation,

And innocence, which most does please,

With meditation.

Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;

Thus unlamented let me dye;

Steal from the world, and not a stone

Tell where I lye.

***

Funny how the children appear to have far more fun-filled days during the school holidays when Dad stays home.  He's not as easily distracted by over-brimming laundry baskets, dirt encrusted floor rugs or general untidiness.  While I would be sorting and tidying as I go, he can devote his singular attention to having a good time.  While I feel slightly awkward being the only one who heads out the door to work in the morning (in the knowledge that this is not just a holiday fix), it is rather splendid to come home to a warm and busy house, the aroma of a cooked meal, children chirriping about what they have done during the day and a glass of wine standing in readiness on the island bench.  It's a perverse role-reversal.  The strange solitude of the working mother.

 

May Day 

by Sara Teasdale

A delicate fabric of bird song

Floats in the air,

The smell of wet wild earth

Is everywhere.

Red small leaves of the maple

Are clenched like a hand,

Like girls at their first communion

The pear trees stand.

Oh I must pass nothing by

Without loving it much,

The raindrop try with my lips,

The grass with my touch;

For how can I be sure

I shall see again

The world on the first of May

Shining after the rain?


***

Still here.  Where did June go?  What's happening to July? Since the loss of my camera, a major restructure on the work front (his not mine), two birthday parties, extreme angst over choice of high school (apologies to all the people - including complete strangers - I've lynched seeking opinions) and now the school holidays, there's not been much time left over to tend to this little creative space.  But here we are, back from a week in Melbourne which included visits to the marvelleous Napoleon exhibition at the National Gallery of Victoria, the Mesopotamia exhibition at the awesome Melbourne Museum and a night performance of Annie the musical at the grand Regent Theatre. So much to tell about these experiences (for another time). The children are growing like topsy and I've nothing but dodgy iphone v.1 photos to show for it.  My visual diary effectively stalled in May. 

Photo: Fly past over The Australian War Memorial, Anzac Day 2012.