New art in the Round Room

New art  in the Round Room ..... in the round.

POEM ~ Country Agent ~ 20 Apr 2019

Country Agent


Through cobwebs and snakes
the agent trudged
to present a property
that was once much loved

But time rolls by
when people die
kids go to the city
someone must buy

The drone flies around
filming the homestead
once a stone mansion
now more dead

But words is words
and this may sell
to a city slicker
sees heaven in hell

The agency founder
dear departed Dad
once got smart
selling land to be had

Far away on the Moon
along with the title
just go claim
when possible

A chip off the block
why not sell Mars
where Musk plans a city
who could pass?

Its the re-sale value
once its legal
or go build a house
on a SpaceX shuttle

That shack is falling down
but a smart fella bought it
nicely restored
who would believe it?

A country house 
in a country town
with a solid wood stove
the buyer's no clown

Back in the office
feet on his desk
the agent wonders
what could be next?

Why not apartments
in an orbital space city
a business plan drafted
the model's a beauty

A website created
all luscious and tempting
an investment of ages
retirement for spending

Dad would be proud
made a mint with the Moon
space cities are bigger
gold with a boom

Don't mind the shower
get a total refit
that tree has a lean
I'll get them to cut it

You want a hill?
The view will amaze
looking over a valley
to endlessly gaze

An old school house
Gothic in stone
could be a gallery
with an interesting home

An apartment in space
with a view of the Earth
time-share the expenses
with an annual berth

Anything's possible
when willing to dream
a tree-change in the country
or riding a Moon beam

Home again by the fire
the flames dance around
dreams of the future
celestial bound


Jaqi
Bluh

Saturday
20
April
2019

NOTE ~   Some people have made money by selling land on the Moon. Just try to claim it. Has anyone sold land on Mars ..... yet. Selling apartments in an orbital space settlement would be a very sound business plan, for an agent with vision ~

https://space.nss.org/settlement/nasa/

POEM ~ Game of Fences ~ 15 Apr 2019

Game of Fences


Years went by
a daily drudge
digging holes
for posts
no bludge

The farmer hard
whip on back
dawn to dusk
a fencer's lot
life's evil stack

One frozen morn
wire snapped
whipped hard
clipped head
one eyed Jack

Something snapped
farmer vanished
never seen
ever again
years crashed

Decades later
posts rotted
dig out holes
new poles
strange sight spotted

A skeletal hand
struck with the bar
pulled up in the air
and stared at
like a star

The constable came
who knew of a rumour
had another post dug
and found the head
a rather grim humour

One eyed Jack
years of abuses
snapped like a wire
cut up the boss
buried the pieces

Bits down a hole
the fencer's revenge
ending the tyranny
a game of fences
the farmer's end

Ancient in years
old people's home
one eyed Jack
read the news
cackled alone

Jaqi
Bluh

Monday

15

April

2019

NOTE ~   Fencing is a hard game, toughening the hands from digging holes for posts, and shedding blood when wire cuts and slashes. A farmer expecting more than a fencer can give, could end in strange places. 

Doggo Wisdoms rocketing away .....

The Doggo Wisdoms have been moved from a board on the wall ..... into a rocket ...... all fuelled up and taking off daily ..... in the Free Range Dog Pound in Second Life .....

"Love my blanket,

smells just fine.

Why wash it?

Another time."

Doggo

Doggo Wisdoms ~

https://stargategrid.forumchitchat.com/post/doggo-wisdom-a-spinoff-from-dogggdays-10086450?pid=1308080858

POEM ~ Thorn Bird ~ 4 Apr 2019

Thorn Bird

Snap a prickle
crack of thorn
drag the branch
to the pyre
in the morn

Farmer Jack
was a happy chap
with loving wife
of big round eyes
and a dog called Nap

Hard the day
cutting boxthorn
a great swaith of prickle
bloodied hands
clothes torn

Neglected long
this bed of strife
must be cleared
for better use
by order of wife

From crack of dawn
to the midday sun
Jack cut a passage
to the heart of thorns
it was no fun

Then glimpsed a form
strange to see
like a fairy tale sleeper
skin white
in the prickle sea

Snap a prickle
crack of thorn
drag the branch
to the pyre
in the morn

Thinking a statue
a work of art
Jack cut deeper
to the sleeper
thorns to part

Naked on bed
as if a grave
one branch away
thorn scratched white skin
blood it gave

Trickled red
down that arm
"Am I mad,
am I bewitched?"
a screamed alarm

Cutting with care
the beauty revealed
asleep to life
in the heart of thorns
no longer concealed

Should kiss those lips
like beauty sleeping
to waken the damsel
from strange slumber
from her dreaming

Snap a prickle
crack of thorn
drag the branch
to the pyre
in the morn

Jack staggered back
quite overwhelmed
a kiss would be sex
between those legs
if he delved

His loving wife
with big round eyes
filled his sight
saved his mind
where passion lies

Looking back
the damsel vanished
only a stone to see
went home for lunch
quite astonished

Boxthorn regrew
best left alone
the forest stayed
the heart of thorns
with a sleeping stone

Only one soul heard
the strange encounter
when out with the sheep
Nap was told
the thorny adventure

Snap a prickle
crack of thorn
drag the branch
to the pyre
in the morn

Jaqi
Bluh 

Thursday
4
April
2019

NOTE ~   This poem is my take on sleeping beauty. The image is of boxthorn on my land in Tasmania, very old boxthorn. You never know what will be found in there. Clearing the ancient boxthorn at present, and it is hard to avoid blood running from prickled hands. Such long sharp spikes. No lover of people. Boxthorn is from South Africa, transported to Van Diemen’s Land as a hedge plant, but is gleefully removed now’a’days.

POEM ~ Lost Dog ~ 29 Mar 2019

Lost Dog

A sunny day

the world was nice

out on the road

I rode my bike

My dog

Buster came

my friend

to play

Screech of wheels

breaking hard

hit the dog

Buster ran far

My heart screamed

to find my friend

where could he go

around what bend

The cubby was empty

by the tree

where we ran

so free

One day the rope broke

where Buster barked

but I survived

another lark

Not in the hay

bales stack

not hiding there

to pat

Great fun to play

castle of straw

kingdom of sky

dreams to draw

I walked the beach

dragged a rope

wondering where

my dog did lope

Where we frolicked

in the waves

in the sun 

we plays

I tried the dunes

a sandy hollow

he was hiding

would he follow

Tears of pain

fell like rain

and happiness

with dog again

He's OK

he can walk

so home we go

for a good long talk

Jaqi

Bluh

Friday

29

March

2019

Note ~   This poem explores a childhood event, when my old dog Buster was hit by a car, and I had to go searching for my friend, not knowing if he was alive, injured, or dead. Mum would always know when I was coming home, from a day up the bush playing at the cubby, because Buster would beat me home. I once put a rope on a tree in the valley there, and swung out on it. Later, on another tree, that rope broke. There were still some farmlands near our house, that were slowly being transformed into a suburb, and in summer, there would be bales of hay stacked, that we would play in. Kept in from school when little one day, two miles from home, two beaches away, I missed the school bus, started walking, and found a rope to play with on the beach of endless distractions. The family went out looking for me, when I didn't arrive home on the school bus. I was found on the beach, dragging a rope along. What was wrong? Buster was found in the sand dunes by the beach, in a wind-blown hollow of the sand. We used to talk.

Doggo Wisdoms volume one

A new board has been put up for Doggo Wisdoms at the Free Range Dog Pound.

This is volume one.

When is volume one complete? When you can't add any more Doggos in the Notecard for Volume One. Then cometh Volume Two ....... Dogs of ambition .......

And the latest Doggo is .......

“Do you talk dog?

I do and do and do.

You sound odd.

Try barking!”

Doggo

Suggestions for Doggos are welcome, which will then be sent through the Doggo sniff filter, to see what comes out the other end .......

It's a dogs world.