Whew!

A poem a day may not keep the doctor away, but it has kept many Bloglanders out of mischief this month, as they celebrated National Poetry Month. Wonder who invented that? Aptly enough, the kick off started on April Fool's Day, and today sees the close with the thirtieth offering - for those who kept going, that is - like me! Hehehe!

I may have missed the beginning, but have more than fulfilled the required thirty offerings since then... as a quick scroll down Alias Jinksy would soon prove, if you doubted my word.

I did, however, treat the whole thing in a lighthearted vein - unlike those experienced or perfectionist poets who dazzled us with their acumen, although with varying degrees of poetic proficiency. The crux of the matter comes down to the question "What is a poem?"And to that, will come as many answers as there are people who reply.

But who could deny the poetic beauty of this photo which a green fingered Blogpal sent me last week?

Shy Violet - Me?

I am a Violet What Flower Are You?

I saw a link to this questionnaire on a fellow blogger's blog, and was tempted enough to waste time and tick all the boxes, to see what I turned out to be! I think it's a fair comment of how I started out in life, but maybe age and wisdom have added other flowers to the posy which is Penny now! Why not see how you get labelled, and let me know? LOL. Have fun. :)

Today

The news is on, with pictures and replays of Lady Thatcher's funeral. Once again England shows how an occasion is made into an occasion by superb organisation and timing. Since the advent of television, it's something which guarantees a spectacle like no other which may be witnessed in the comfort of one's own home.

The stupidity of some young people who were not even ALIVE during her time as Prime Minister was unbelievable, but they were outnumbered by the support of thousands of people who lined the route - some of whom had camped out all night in order to witness the procession.

A few days ago I wrote something which I am posting again here, as many Napple Notes readers don't follow my more poetical offerings on either Alias Jinksy, or In Tandem. R.I.P. Maggie.

In Memoriam

The name of Margaret Thatcher hit the news
again, not due to governmental coup
or parliamentary problem, simply death -
her own - not those of troops in Falkland's war.
Some mourn and some rejoice that she is gone,
but chroniclers will none the less record
her place in British history as the first
woman elected to head our Ministers.
A prime position, in name as well as fact,
despite the humble start she had in life.
Now, at its end, what higher tribute
could be paid, than that the Queen herself
attend her funeral service, with respect?

Loquacious?

Who, me? Well, I could hold my hand up to being this on a good day - show me a woman who couldn't? But for now, I am being penny pinching with my words - nay, my characters, even, and limiting myself to a mere 140, including spaces. And for why? Ask Grandma. She posted this picture, and I counted to 140...

Strewth, whatever next? In our youth the table was never this bare. It's enough to make a horse laugh even while his belly rumbles. Heehaw.