poetry month

In all the cleaning and book moving, I came upon my mislaid copy of Robin Williamson's The Wise and Foolish Tongue, and inside it a letter from Robin and a pic of us both wearing purple shirts (which I would scan for you, except that I'm in it, and we can't have that, can we? But I have the mother of all grins on my face, and dark hair which I hardly remember having since I've been a combo of grey-white-colorless for ages now)


But I thought I'd give you this for poetry month, and spare you the words to the filk High Fly The Nazgul-O, which I have been singing all day.

The fileg in me is partial to the third verse, but may love lead us all safe home.

( These Islands Green )

Ah, have the filk as well, and I'll picture you all singing this around the world
( High Fly The Nazgul-0 )

(no subject)

We are just at the tail end of the Good Friday afternoon rain (I don't recall a single year without it, though probably there have been a few.) I have spent several fruitless minutes wandering about on my lawn - I can clearly hear the first lost peep of the year, calling for its mother, but I never managed to find it. (for the lovecraft fans among you, we refer to this call as wild and tuneless peeping) So, I have not actually seen any ducklings yet... Hopefully one of the moms will add it to their miniflock.

Surprisingly, when I went out to the porch, my much detested upstairs neighbors were also out trying to locate the peep (though not by actually coming downstairs or anything like that!) So maybe they are only horrible to me.

Sometime while I was asleep, the gardening fairies mulched my little strip of ground. It looks quite nice, though fixing the leaky faucet under my bedroom window might also be a good idea. Currently I have violets poking up everywhere, and some ground cover (myrtle, possibly) that Robin Wood planted long ago when she was staying with us. It's only a matter of time before the dreaded lime balm stages its yearly attempt to take over the world. (Whatever possessed me to put that in the ground? How did I forget it was a mint, it even has the classic square stem?) Something green is pushing up where they razed my lilac, but I can't tell yet if it is lilac or rose. No sign on life where they flattened my lavender while working on the roof.

While it's cool and damp like this, I have the urge to clean out the tiny bed I made years back on the kitchen side of the porch and plant various thymes. But the last few years have been scorching and dry and I haven't wanted to do anything but estivate. My original idea of standing herbs in pots in my windowboxes may yet win out.