Saturday, 31 October 2015

Oh Wonder - All We Do

If you have been watching Unforgotten on ITV and being mesmerised by the opening music, then I've done the Google bit for you!! 

It is called All we do and performed by Oh Wonder.

If you haven't heard it before then have a listen and enjoy!!

Happy Halloween......

One of Nicki's older poems we made in to a Poetic Pic last year but it is the right day to share with you again,'HALLOWEEN'

Sunday, 25 October 2015

Just love the things you can pick up on the internet!!

This was a painting I picked up on my cyber travels of 3 whalers!! I think it is a really splendid painting and thought I would share it here with you all.
It was submitted by Chris Jeffries a member of my Facebook photo group!

Tuesday, 13 October 2015

Some suggested Roast Dinner films for Yorkshire Pudding Day!

Beef encounter.
Pat Carrot and Billy the Kid.
The Thomas Turkey Crown affair.
Silence of the roast lambs.
Death in Venison.
Cloudy with a chance of meat and two veg.
Braise the Titanic.
Sprout of Africa.
Rosemary’s Baby potatoes.
The Nut roast professor.

Thursday, 8 October 2015

21st celebration of National Poetry Day. 8th October 2015.

National Poetry Day, best day ever to buy 
Nicki Tilston's book!!

Very simply email me here!
Paypal accepted.
Only £9 including UK postage.
What could be easier? 

Sunday, 4 October 2015

On the beach.....

Two Defiant members of the Wilko News team on the beach at New Brighton.
In front of an amphibious rescue craft called 'Defiant 2'

Saturday, 3 October 2015

Icelandic ingenuity!!

Not my pics and brought to my attention by Paul David 'c' Roberts in my Facebook photo group, from which I had to delete them because they are not his either but they truly are brilliant!!

Thursday, 1 October 2015

Ode to Autumn,

Ode To Autumn by John Keats.
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
       Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
   Conspiring with him how to load and bless
       With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
   To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
       And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
         To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
       With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
   And still more, later flowers for the bees,
 Until they think warm days will never cease,
         For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.

 Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
     Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
 Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
     Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
 Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
     Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
         Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
 And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
     Steady thy laden head across a brook;
     Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
         Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.

 Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
     Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
 While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
     And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
 Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
     Among the river sallows, borne aloft
         Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
 And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
     Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
     The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
         And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.