Beautiful Crazy Mind


She led him piece by piece
down to her water of life,
and even though he knew
she was possibly quite crazy,
he didn’t mind at all
because sanity was never his anyway.
She fed him tea and poetry,
and the wonders of her endless thought,
sweeter than honey,
a different kind of bliss,
an ecstasy, a loving bed
of like minds and theology.
They drifted on euphoria,
with a kind of nakedness
that opens eyes to the unknown,
and teaches the independent heart
how not to recover from the blending of souls.
In the passing of time,
even the most ancient memory
won’t fail to recall her living water,
the loving bed,
the poetry infused with tea
and her beautiful crazy mind.


Picture: Cranes Fly Away ~ Deviantart


The inspiration for this poem came from Leonard Cohen’s song ‘Suzanne‘ partially describing a woman he once knew.

Someone I was following on Twitter posted a You Tube video of the Judy Collins version.  When I played it I really wasn’t sure if I had ever heard that song before or not – but it got my attention, I absolutely loved it.  I have to guess the song is describing fascination and and magnetic attraction when the love of someone, or perhaps the idea of how wonderful they are sweeps us off our feet.  As least, that’s how the song speaks to me.  And the beautiful crazy mind in my poem is describing a woman who is not miss average.  Someone who is highly attractive in personality, but seen by the world as a bit crazy.  Perhaps Charles Bukowski’s wonderful poem One For Old Snaggletooth might have also inspired me on this one?

It was interesting to find that Leonard Cohen was originally a writer, poet and an author of several novels, who later turned to write songs because those books weren’t bringing him in enough money.  I didn’t know that before, but it makes perfect sense, he’s a powerful writer of some brilliant songs!  Here’s the lyrics if you’d prefer to read them.



Just to let you all know, it might be a little while before I get to answer the comments on here as I’m going to have to take a short break.  I have some major work – essential repairs occurring next week in my home, plus a complete refit of my bathroom.  I was hoping it would all be done when I last took a break – but no, nothing went to plan.  I’m dreading the upheaval, not to mention having to move my computer from it’s perfect place in order to ensure it’s not damaged with all the workmen in the house.  It has to be done, but I’m not happy at all, I hate chaos and stress. :neutral: I just hope I manage to keep my cool head on. ;)
If you notice my absence for about a week, I’m not avoiding you all, just a bit tied up with the annoying things of life.  If I get the opportunity to use another computer during that time (might be possible) I’ll drop by your blogs, but if not, I’ll be offline for about a week.  I’m hoping to go ahead with the second issue of The Writing Garden as planned, it’s all complete, just got to press publish.  But again, I might be a while getting round to any comments.  I shall certainly be returning to read your posts ASAP! :)



61y6Z6ZsouLDancing In The Rain – poetry by Chris Moran
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The Multiple Sclerosis Trust
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Tea Room Adventure

Biddy's Tea Room - Norwich - 3


My little adventurein tea and cakes-002


Something different today, just a little micropoetry to compliment my lovely Sunday afternoon in December when I visited a vintage style tea room in Norwich (England) – a sneaky peek of the city where I live.  I wish I could invite you all for afternoon tea, but hopefully this post will create the illusion you have done just that! :)

From the window display Biddy’s Tea Room looks more like a gift shop, and I’ve been walking past this gorgeous teashop for a long time not realizing it was somewhere to eat and just my kind of place.   That’s what happens when you live in a tourist city, you get used to the surroundings and you don’t see things in the same way as the visitors, you can end up missing out.  I shall pay more attention in the future.

Biddy’s Tea Room was created by Charlie Buchan in 2010.  She explains on her website I’ve always been interested in history and obsessed with antiques. I wanted Biddy’s to reflect the bits I loved in each era… the whimsicalness of the Victorians, the ingenuity of the Edwardians, the romance of the pre-Raphaelites and the work ethic of arts and crafts!  It’s a lot to ask-but I tried to cram as much of this into Biddy’s as I could – I always just hoped people ‘got it’?!

As you will probably see from my pictures, she really has created a wonderful glimpse into the history of afternoon tea and cake in beautiful English tea rooms.  It was like stepping back in time to a scene from an old movie.  I loved the genuine homely antique furniture and the variety of mismatched crockery.  It was just like my Grandmothers home – none of her plates, cups or saucers ever matched.

I kept saying to my brother, “I feel like we’re going meet some really interesting person from the past, perhaps Oscar Wilde sitting in an armchair writing some poetry!  It was a unique and delightfully surreal time travel experience!!

And of course, the tea and cake was delicious.  I’m looking forward to trying the restaurant upstairs to discover more of their main menu next time.  The staff were very friendly and relaxed too, and were happy for us to take some photos.  If you click on the gallery for these pictures they look so much better, there’s also an option under each picture to view them in full size.  The first two pictures and also the last one were taken by my brother, all the others are mine.

I didn’t use the flash on my camera because I wanted to capture the cosy feeling.  I was surprised I was able to get any good pictures without a lot of camera shake, I must have a more steady hand than I thought.  And if you’re wondering what that tall building with a string of Christmas lights around it is, it’s the city hall clock tower.



I was amazed to find an excellent video on You Tube all about Biddy’s Tea Room (See further down post).  It shows all the bits I haven’t captured in the pictures, and also what it looks like in the summer season.

I’ve been living in this medieval city since 1990.  It was only meant to be temporary, I had some vague plan to live in London one day, but you couldn’t drag me away now, it is such a beautiful place to live.

Norwich has thirty-three medieval church buildings, two cathedrals, an art deco city hall and a striking Norman castle high on a hill looking down at the city centre.  Although the exterior of the castle was refaced in 1839 with Bath stone covering over the flint and Caen stone walling making the castle blend in with a lot of other new buildings of that era.  The original walls would have looked very different and can only be seen from the inside.  If you’re into historical buildings that’s a very good reason to pay it a visit and also take a look at it’s museum and scary dungeons – and believe me, they are very creepy!!

Also there are two large shopping malls, four cinemas, five theatres and a really vibrant outdoor market, trading virtually on the same spot for almost 900 years.  On Saturdays the city centre streets often come alive with buskers, and other street entertainers, we even have our own living statue of Charlie Chaplin Anthony Arnold not only performs in Norwich but has twirled that cane in Hollywood too on his many travels with his captivating performance of Charlie.

Each year in July we have a Lord Mayors Celebration, which is basically a huge carnival, including a beer and music festival, a selection of outdoor theatre productions, and a huge firework display launched from the roof of the castle as the grand finale of the evening celebrations.  Rockabilly band Derrière (from Brighton) performed at the festival just around the corner from Biddy’s Tea Room in 2012, and somehow, I managed to miss that show :( – they sound so good!  If you like the sound of their music you might like Battle Plan, one of their official videos.   Time to dance now!!

If anyone living in Norwich says they’re bored, it can only be a state of mind, there are so many things to do and places to visit in the surrounding area, you can never get bored living in this city.





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Even The End Shall Pass



Everyone knows
a flower has little time to parade in glory
all good things must end
now the leaf has at last let go
it’s sunny days have become
as the final chapter of a good book closing
red berries hold on
and listen to whispers on the breeze
this final stage is not as it seems
because bleakness is granted permission
to paint in harshness for a few short days
so let it colour with untamed rust
leaves lost to the ground
and sweep smoky trails across the sky
because this is the great alteration of shades
and all living things know
even the end shall pass
let the old make way for the new
Picture: Withered ~ Devinatart



I was fairly certain I wouldn’t write about Autumn this year, but obviously something in my mind had other ideas!  I’m sure that happened last autumn/winter too, and then this poem came out in December.  Perhaps I’m in denial as to how much I love this time of year?! ;)

I had real trouble finding an appropriate picture for this one.  When I did a search for images, it didn’t matter what direction I looked in, pictures for autumn were heavily dominated by orange and gold.  Stunning, but I wasn’t convinced they were a true picture of autumn, a little too bright, not quite what I was looking for.

The reality of autumn for me living in England is definitely a lot less vibrant.  There are some colourful trees to be found, but it’s more soft orange and yellow and a lot more rust and plenty of those smoky sky days.  In fact the day after I wrote this, the sky became exactly that, a pale china blue with wide sweeping smoky art trails with a hint of pink – abstract autumn!  It was like seeing my poetry in the sky, can’t say that’s ever happened before.  I guess the colour of autumn must vary a lot around the world, and I can only write about the one I know.

I thought the sound and feel of this Agnes Obel song would go well with this poem.  If you want to see more of Agnes I created a recent music post about her on my other blog CuriostyShopp.  I found her music last year while looking up Ane Brun, I feel they have some similarities in music style, atmospheric and inspiring lyrics.  You can find her You Tube channel here.




A stunning poem Cynthia, as are all your poems! This is so different, a perfect poem and reading for autumn!

Originally posted on

(originally posted October 31, 2013)

All souls own this evening, love,
blurring borders between quick and dead.
And even if the fearsome moans of man
did not appoint this time as hallowed,
our backyard trees announce it, as they
lose their glory and become their bones.

The veil is at its thinnest now, that
suddenly obscured you and left me
bereft, dumbfounded in the desolately clear.
Once a day, at least, I stop to wonder
where you are.  I do not think of
you as being here.  Except, tonight

a heightening of powers in the darkness
wants to break november from october
with a cold slap and a small wail in the wind.
Something more than me, something much
more sure that you abide, this night, brings
you, in ways that I can almost touch.

View original

Nothing Lasts Forever


I watched my mother turn the page of the calendar.  September, a picture of a golden sunset shimmering on a highland lake.  That picture and September spoke of things I wished not to know.

She said “The weeks – they’ve gone so fast!”  Fussing over clothes for school, debating how much I would grow, and if my skirts were long enough to last the winter.  She dragged me to shops, the boring ones, not for excitement of toys, but to buy a perfect pair of sensible brown shoes.  Boring ridiculous shoes, to be worn at a ridiculous place.  Because September always spelled – SCHOOL.  Too close for comfort and never far enough away.  Pressing in like an elephant sitting on my head, crushing my thoughts, reminding me the hot summer had finally melted, like watching ice cream drip, and never getting to taste how good it was.  My short days of freedom were almost over.

The first day of term would always be the same, walking through gates, long faces, clones in matching uniforms.  Grumpy grey, navy numb, charcoal and mud coloured shoes spoiling pretty young feet.  Laughter forgotten, fun stored away for long awaited opportunities, and the warmth of sun luminous on our heads as though holidays were not yet over.  How horribly deprived we felt, how torn we were, like chicks fallen from the nest.

Each new term, a fresh class, a new teacher.  Everything that had been, no longer was.  Strange, alien, vulnerable.  The beginning of another year in a place I wished not to be.  Windows were magnets, I’d lose so much time staring through many, my eyes drawn to outdoors, the trees, birds, and each fluffy cloud that drifted by had more meaning than the monotony of the classroom.  I’d try to find the tiniest evidence of happiness, because hours at a desk was never going to be happy.

A voice interrupted, the stern face of my teacher glared, eyes like fire, speech like rusting metal. “Get on with your work!  There’s nothing to see out there!”

Ah, but there was!  The world with all it’s interesting things.  A place with meaning – the flowers, the wind, the smell of cut grass, tree houses in the woods, picnics, days at the beach, the picking of berries and the refined art of making of jam.  My loving home, my peace, my quite, my own private space.  Obediently, I lowered my head, stared at my book, blinded by numbers – 6 x 9 – 7 x 8 – 4 x 12 …. none of it made sense at all.

While I stared at blank paper where my maths should have been, I learnt to imagine everything that was not of numbers, and wished the daily grind of the classroom clean away.

Before I noticed, September had become like any other month.  Lost it’s strength in imparting dread, and those days moved so far away.

September has changed.  Freedom was given.  And I learned that nothing lasts forever.


Picture - Spring by mechtanyia – Deviantart

Although everything in this story is true, it was actually the picture that originally inspired the idea.  It reminded me of myself at a time when I was most unhappy at my primary school, and how those long school summer holidays were so beautiful, so welcome.  But even after all those weeks off, it was never long enough.

I had a dreadful teacher at the time, I referred to her as ‘the witch‘ because to me she might as well have been.  I was constantly picked on by her and she even had the evil cheek to encourage the rest of the class to copy her in humiliating me.  I wasn’t the only one, she targeted a few others too – all the quiet ones – easy pickings.

I still feel to this day, she should have been dismissed, her behaviour was totally unprofessional.  And it’s amazing how one person can do so much damage to a young mind with their voice.  She succeeded in destroying my confidence for many years, but I’m happy to say, not forever.  And who knows, maybe I should thank her for assisting in making me a stronger person today and for teaching me one very important life lesson – don’t ever tolerate a bully, no matter who they are.

School always felt very unnatural to me, even my first day at school left me feeling I was in the wrong place.  I don’t absorb information very well in a classroom, I’m much better learning quietly in my own company, at my own pace.  I did eventually leave school at the age of thirteen, I just refused to go, caused a lot of problems, but it all came right in the end.

I was lucky to have a family who did their best to understand and support me, and I was home schooled for the remaining years – it was a huge relief!  There couldn’t have been anyone more grateful than me to finally reach age sixteen, it was so good to just forget about the pressure of eduction for a while.  It’s not my opinion that schools are wrong, I just don’t think they are the right place for everyone, we are all wonderful individuals, not clones.

I’m sure I’m not the only one who hated school, or maybe you loved school?  Whatever your experience was, please share your stories if you feel inspired to! :)


Early Years


“School for me
was an unpleasant necessity
a key to the future
I failed to recognise
distant and remote
unable to lure me
a prisoner of the present
where the cinema’s novelty
provided an escape
from conformity
into a world of fantasy.”

Absolutely brilliant Ken, I’m sure many will relate to this! I said I’d reblog, so here it goes!! :)

Originally posted on Ken W. Simpson Poetry:

It all began
subconsciously for me
with dim thoughts
and vague memories
of parental affection
in a world of sensation
the joys of toys
Christmas trees
a merry-go-round
picture books
and castles in the sand.

Supervised and organized
intolerant, demanding
urgently needing
attention and affection
continually beseeching
helpless, dependent
sometimes rebellious
adapting by reacting
crawling then tottering
gradually growing
and learning.

Circumscribed by necessity
controlled and dominated
by superior forces
dutiful parents
and an aunt
then by teachers
who encouraged
and groomed me mentally
to regurgitate
parrot-like sounds
with monotonous regularity.

Rivalries emerged
with the need to succeed
to gain an advantage
preferential treatment
as an incentive or bribe
when competing
for promotion and status
to earn recognition
without discriminating
between vanity
and jealousy.

Learning was fun
enjoyed when playing games
imaginatively inspired
but lost its appeal
when the fun disappeared
and discipline dictated
facts to be memorized
conceptualised and…

View original 243 more words

Wasting My Young Years ~ London Grammar

London Grammar is one of those new bands I accidentally discovered recently on one of my You Tube trips!  I love Hannah Reid’s haunting voice, and I’m looking forward to see what they come up with next.  Here’s a live version of this song.  If you want to hear more of their music visit their You Tube or SoundCloud page, also Wikipedia or their website.