Seeds from Sicily

Several sorts of tomatoes are growing

here and there in Seanhenge.

All seeds taken from tomatoes

that in 2013 grew in Sicily.

Two Dahlias

... some shades of green and a fly.

RiP, Lioness

Tik...tak and tik...tak, O how the moment flies?
Compelled, humble and obedient it flies.
- Stay, stay my life! give a respite... O God!
Without farewell, wordless and even a look it flies.
Drop by drop like the spring, it drops by moments,
Month turns to year, year turns to month and flies.
At the golden twilight the sun rises,
With the last bloody setting, sinks in well and flies.
When I lay the silvery sleep over my dream,
A black sleep arrives, a white dream flies;
My life like the curtain from alternate white and black
Has become stripped and still stripped it flies.
She who goes is me, I won't return,
Ah me, tell time that untimely it flies!
My pulse is tired, tired from counting ,
The moments of my life, ah... ah time flies!

Simin Behbahani (20 June 1924 - 19 August 2014) 

• For more poems penned by this remarkable woman I set a link to the blog of my friend Jams who admired "The Lioness of Iran" and would have been sad to hear of her death.  

From Pomona's Store

We'll rather taste the bright Pomona's store,
No fruit shall 'scape
Our palates, from the damson to the grape.*

From An Ode to Master Anthony Stafford to hasten him in the Country by Thomas Randolph (1605 - 1634)

Ballad of Hollis Brown

Friday is Skyday

By leaving the village.

Laughing Lhursday*

* [For first time visitors]:
Typo in the title?Nah. It's just that I would not let a tiny T spoil an avantgardistic alliteration.

Pi

Well, irrational . . .

What a Mess

I like it.

Earth apples

Getting curious I dug up the first potatoes.
Looks as if we're going to have a fine harvest.

Great Performances

Anna Caterina Antonacci *5 April 1961

The Snail's Dream*

A snail, who had a way, it seems,
Of dreaming very curious dreams,
Once dreamed he was – you'll never guess! –
The Lightning Limited Express!

* from The Bashful Earthquake & Other Fables and Verses
by Oliver Herford [1863-1935]; New York: Charles Scribner's Sons 1898

Friday is Skyday [113]

Behind the old fir . . .