Passed Masters


I passed a masterpiece today
I passed a few what can I say?
We did the Prado, Thyssen too.
How many pictures? Barely know.

Caught Picasso, Tintoretto
Saw a Goya, a Titian or two.
Others we passed, what can I say?
We missed a few. It’s how things go.

Visitation, crucifixion
Salvation now annunciation.
Here’s another; come this way.
We wander past them to and fro.

That’s a Monet, and there’s a Bosch.
We can look but must not touch.
This one’s Durer, that’s El Greco
Velasquez here, some Reubens too.

Now a room of gentry, royalty.
Carlos third; we know that nose.
On and on and on it goes.
All we tourists passing through.

There’s classic figures nude, unclothed,
Pictures of heaven only knows.
Round and round and round we go.
So many rooms we just pass through.

Masters painted, sought perfection
Showed technique and dedication.
But we can’t really take it in
And what we see we hardly know.

The artists could have never known
Their pictures would like this be shown;
Now just another wandered past
That should stand proudly on its own.

I passed a masterpiece today.
I passed a few what can I say?
We did the Prado and Thyssen too.
How many pictures? Barely know.





What makes Britain Great

For Ellen Hawley

Great Britain is ‘Great’ and always will be
The largest island in the British Isles
Ireland is smaller and so truly
Great Britain is ‘Great’ and always will be
It’s nothing to do with hope or glory
Our politicians’ boastful lies
Great Britain is ‘Great and always will be
It’s the largest island in the British Isles.

The ‘United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland’, official title of our country, consists of Great Britain (England, Scotland and Wales) and Northern Ireland, six provinces on the smaller island of Ireland. It’s ‘Great’ in roughly the same way Great Yarmouth is. Someone should tell the politicians.


You’ve seen the scenes in Spain, Madrid

Celebrating Easter there.

Meanwhile upon an English Street

You’ll hardly know it’s Holy Week.

English people lack the passion

Won’t process in Spanish fashion.

We’d feel so foolish on the street.

And cringe if neighbours we should meet.

We make a gesture on Palm Sunday;

The congregation forced from out their chairs.

Shuffling round the church half hearted.

Clearly wishing they weren’t there.

Glumly at the vicar’s bidding

Squirming, near the passing traffic;

They all stand; outside the church

Passive, quiet and undramatic.

They’ll nervously grasp their small palm cross

But will they wave them? ‘No not us’.

We’ll take them home without a fuss.

Displayed but nowhere obvious.

Good Friday some process the cross

But only if they’re very keen.

Much braver than the rest of us.

Who’d rather die than be thus seen.

The cockerel crows three times for us

But such is English nervousness

You won’t find us below the cross

For that would so embarrass us.

Procesion Del Silencio (Good Friday in Madrid)


Watch as round the streets they go
Procesion del Silencio.
Eerie in their tall white hoods
Through the streets Madrileño
Their respect in silence show.

Solemn march to mark Good Friday
Christ died for our sins that day
Silent, white robed, in their hoods
The eerie figures make their way
And mark this solemn holiday.


Egg Hunt

Come and join the Easter Egg Hunt
Bought to you by Cadbury
Needn’t wait for Easter Sunday
Egg hunts happen every day.

Don’t be bothering with Good Friday
Men on crosses, stuff thats sad
We all love the Easter Bunny
So much fun that can be had.

Run around our muddy woodlands
Chase around our muddy lakes
Nature trails and Cadbury’s cream eggs.
Why be sad for goodness sake!

Come and have a fun filled Easter
Cuddly bunnies, little chicks
Can’t be fussed with resurrection
Church was never fun like this.

You can fight a fiery dragon
You can solve a mystery
Face paint, games, and fun activity
Carnival and family games.

Help preserve our special places
So future generations can explore
As long as we’ve got special places
Easter’s message we’ll ignore.

Britain’s National Trust, a charity that preserves land and historic properties for the nation, was criticised last year for an Easter Activity programme that made no reference to the religious festival. Their original publicity even omitted the word Easter.

Jueves Santos – Holy Thursday in Madrid



Holy Thursday Madrid

Holy Thursday in Madrid
You’ll see men with faces hid
Wearing big tall pointed hoods
Penitential brotherhoods.

And you’ll see Los Costaleros
Struggling with the mighty Pasos
Images on weighty altars
Gold and silver painted thrones.

Through the crowded streets they’re carried
Shoulders struggle with the weight
Images of Jesus, Mary
Sometimes all but feet are  hid.

It can be a slow progression
There can be a lengthy wait
Spanish people stay up late
Their processions will continue
Late into the Spanish night.




Barista Favorite: Marooned- Eric Syrdal

Deserving winner from Go Dog Go Cafe Promote Yourself Monday.

Go Dog Go Café

The Baristas have chosen their favorite piece of writing from the March 8th Pay It Forward Thursday at the Go Dog Go Cafe.  We are honored to share the Barista Favorite with the GDG community, the poem Marooned by Eric Syrdal who writes at My Sword and Shield.  We highly encourage you to go read more of Eric’s writing.

Complacently we sit here
on this sorrow-soaked sand
and exchange stories of our youth

together, like second-hand soldiers
we watch the tide come in
our arms, laid gently aside
rusting in the brine

while we bicker over
sea dragon sightings and mermaid fins
no white sails appear
beyond that jagged reef

the signal fire
has long since turned to ash
we’ve eaten the flint and steel
and drank the oil

while neither remembers now
who was king and who was pauper

I’ll wear this crown
and you thrown your stones

View original post 7 more words

Frogs and Princes


Frog Prince

You dreamed of a prince on his charger
Or a frog to transform with your kiss
There’d be happiness ever after
So how did it come to this?

He should have rode into the sunset
And left you there pining for him
But the mistake you both made
Was you let him move in
And now it’s all going wrong.

Men look rough in the morning
Their habits are messy and vile
The truth will be gradually dawning
Frog into prince takes a while.

One kiss ain’t going to do it
It takes more patience than that.
It takes time to smooth the rough edges
But no-one tells you bout that.

Can and can’t


Poet Andrew Green
Can and can’t

You may think you can
You may think you can’t.
Whichever you believe
Will be true.
For if you don’t think you can
Then surely you won’t
But believe and it’s likely you can.

‘Maybe’, ‘might’ and ‘I’ll try to’
Are enemies of getting things done
Commit in your heart; say,
‘I can and I will’ and the goal
Will surely be won.

India’s Plastic Problem


Once if you went to India
They’d warn you to watch your tum
They’d speak of Delhi Belly
And other joys to come.

But now there is bottled water
You can buy it anywhere
And they don’t tell ‘would be’ tourists
That they will get the runs.

So now they moan about rubbish
They say it’s everywhere
They forget it’s for our stomachs
That much of it is there.

India’s day starts with sweeping
It’s done with a bunch of twigs
And then the rubbish they burn it
It’s always been that way

But those wretched plastic bottles
They just won’t burn away.
So the rubbish made of plastic
Alas will often stay.

So tourists if there’s rubbish
Before you express disgust
Just remember the problem
Is partly caused by us.