Challenge -- Bits of Inspiration ~ Nightingale

I always loved Patti Page's rendition of Mocking Bird Hill.

Mocking Bird Under Your Window

I'm the mocking bird under your window
I'm singing my song to you, my sweet love
Tra la la, my dear love, won't you come down

If I were a boy I'd throw some pebbles
Their rippling effect on your window pane
An age old song there, whispers it's sweet song

Either way I'm singing my song, again
Again and again, until you come down
I'll hold you and kiss you, we'll kiss 'til morn

We will kiss until morning, feel our love
That love will be throbbing, throb in our hearts
Mocking bird I am, singing you my love

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- Poem Copyright, © 2014 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved;
- Photo from Susie Clevenger post, her from Wikipedia (below--http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/8/83/Luscinia_megarhynchos_Istria_01.jpg/800px-Luscinia_megarhynchos_Istria_01.jpg)

- I'm linked with Susie Clevenger at the Real Toads, Bits of Inspiration ~ Nightingale (link)

- Susie tells some things I didn't know about the Nightingale, then asked "What is your nightingale song?* Please write a new poem for the challenge..."

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- *My favorite Mockingbird song is Mocking Bird Hill, here are the lyrics:
(Do you remember the song?  Patti Page singing it?)

Mockin' Bird Hill

Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee
It gives me a thrill
To wake up in the morning to the mockingbird's trill
Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee
There's peace and goodwill
You're welcome as the flowers on Mockin' Bird Hill

When the sun in the morning
Peeps over the hill,
And kisses the roses 'round my windowsill
Then my heart fills with gladness
When I hear the trill
Of the birds in the treetops on Mockin' Bird Hill

Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee
It gives me a thrill
To wake up in the morning to the mockingbird's trill
Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee
There's peace and goodwill
You're welcome as the flowers on Mockin' Bird Hill

When it's late in the evening,
I climb up the hill
And survey all my kingdom while everything's still
Only me and the sky -- and an old whippoorwill
Singin' songs in the twilight on Mockin' Bird Hill

Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee
It gives me a thrill
To wake up in the morning to the mockingbird's trill
Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee
There's peace and goodwill
You're welcome as the flowers on Mockin' Bird Hill

Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee
There's peace and goodwill
You're welcome as the flowers on Mockin' Bird Hill

( http://www.songlyrics.com/page-patti/mockin-bird-hill-lyrics/ )

Sunday Mini-Challenge & Open Link Monday posts

 

A Grain of Love

It was love at first sight, she thought.

A fiery hot courtship followed, she was persistent,

their being together nearly night and day.

Wedding bells' gongs screaming

in her head, begging for fruition.

.

Our handsome young lad was making noises,

sounds of another kind, Please Mary, I need ...

When she'd hint of that blissful day he fidgeted,

coughed lowly, and begged her leave.

Worried a little she took her stand.

Devious it might be, invitations to stay increased.

  .

Oh John, O John, hold me tighter,

I love you so became her consistent whisper.

Whispered softly in his ear.

Night after night, passion abounding,

Oh Johnny, do you love me too?

  .

It took a measured while but then one night,

his wine-breathed whisper barely sounding,

I love you too, Mary, I love you too.

With wedding thoughts more intense,

she dreamed of that day,

surely coming very soon.

  .

Months had passed then her thoughts quickly changed.

  .

She'd have to ask and ask she did.

Veiled at first with feigned humor,

talk about the rabbit dying.

Made no sense to John. Come, come to me,

I'll get you a new one tomorrow.

Johnny, it isn't a real rabbit.  

No, my test said "a happy day is coming."

  .

Later that night when John was with the guys,

they told him what she had meant.  

Oh damn, O da...  He texted her that night,

gibberish about a fast job change in another town.

I'll text you when I land and

send you some money soon when I can.

 .

I am sorry. Be seeing you.

  .

Mary's note they found.

Nothing in it made much sense. 

One line "to John,"

 .

"Was there one, even one grain of love?"
 .

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Photo, Poem Copyright, ©  2011, 2014 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

- I'm linked with Kerry at the Real Toads, Sunday Mini-Challenge: In Other Words (Link)

- There Kerry picked a couple of novels, I am writing mine in honor of her second selection,

A Grain of Wheat, a novel by Kenyan novelist Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o

and again Monday

- with Kerry at the Real Toads, Open Link Monday (Link)

 

Dog and squirrel games -- Challenge writing

 

Dog and squirrel fun

 

Little squirrel, I hope you'll come down

Down from your tree so we can play

We'll play some more but no more chase

Game of chase, you ran up that tree

 

A new game for us, follow me

We run and run and when we're done

I take you gently by your neck

Game of shake, a dog's show of love

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Photo Copyright, © 2008 Jimmiehov (link) and Poem Copyright, © 2014 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

Today I'm linked with Kerry at the Real Toads, If Only They Could Talk (Link)
and
on Monday with Magaly at the Real Toads, Open Link Monday (Link)

Kerry's Challenge:  "reimagine an iconic literary character or monologue as presented from the point of view of a close animal companion (or one that just happens to be passing by). Alternately, you may like to write a poem about yourself from your pet's perspective. Have fun with this idea - the only stipulation is that the narrative voice of the poem be non-human."
Katrin is our 14-year-old Toy Poodle.  She was eight when the picture was taken and the dog/squirrel game of "chase" ended with the squirrel up the tree.  Katrin was new then to us, she was given to us, when the former owner died we were her choice. (more Katrin posts HERE)
Adi,  my beagle dog (she died a couple of years ago) shows us how dogs play the game of "shake": (more Adi posts HERE)
 [from my YouTube postings: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CEGXiWws33E&list=PL38B949635D7A06A8
 

My iconic literary character?  It might be one of Edgar Allen Poe's "victims",
i.e., "The Pit and the Pendulum".

Open Link Monday -- Abou Ben Adhem

. . . [please click on the picture to make it a bit larger]

. . . . . . . . [ -- I am the boy in the back row]

 

Abou Ben Adhem

 

By Leigh Hunt 1784–1859 Leigh Hunt

 

Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)

Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,

And saw, within the moonlight in his room,

Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,

An angel writing in a book of gold:—

Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,

And to the presence in the room he said,

"What writest thou?"—The vision raised its head,

And with a look made of all sweet accord,

Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord."

"And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so,"

Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,

But cheerly still; and said, "I pray thee, then,

Write me as one that loves his fellow men."

 

The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night

It came again with a great wakening light,

And showed the names whom love of God had blest,

And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest

Poem copied from the Poetry Foundation, http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/173698

The picture above was my annual "school picture."  I believe that I was in the fifth grade, our school taught eight grades but some were empty.  I was five when I started.  My sister, Lois (link), is front row right, standing near the teacher.  She was four or five, depending on when the picture was taken, and had started in the first grade.

This was the second and longer poem that I had ever memorized. (My first poem memorized was "Trees" by Joyce Kilmer).
I had come to like this poem and somehow I applied it to my life.  It probably calmed for life some of my bad side bones and helped set my personality. 

The poem was in an old poetry book that I found rummaging upstairs in an unused bookcase.  The bookcase had belonged to my father's aunt, Aunt Minnie. The book was either hers or my mom's from her younger days.
I still have that little book, a paperback, someplace packed away for now.

Here is some author material the bottom from the bottom of the page linked to above:

"RELATED CONTENT

Discover this poem’s context and related poetry, articles, and media.

Poet - Leigh Hunt 1784–1859

POET’S REGION - England

SCHOOL / PERIOD - Romantic

Subjects - Religion, God & the Divine

Poetic Terms - Couplet"
_ _ _ _ _

Monday, I am linked with Kerry at the Real Toads, Open Link Monday (link)

Her Challenge: "Do you have a poem that you would like to share with us today? (see above) Please link up a piece of your choice and join us in reading and responding to the best of online poetry. (see below)"
_ _ _ _ _
 

Abou Ben Adhem
Leigh Hunt, my inspiration
Stayed with me for life
Old book of poetry mine
One treasure never stolen

Tanka poem and School picture Copyright, © 2014, 2010, Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

Museuming -- Flash 55

Museuming  

Day when he got to Albi,

Expectations running high,

Was ready to get his fill.

 

His fill of Henri Lautrec,

Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec.

Little problem, parking space.

 

Henri was to wait his turn

For want of a parking space.

Lautrec, had his fill, and then,

 

Paul Cézanne surprise for him

in Albi's Lautrec Museum

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Photos Copyright, © 2009 Jimmiehov (link) and Poem Copyright, © 2014 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

Today I am linked with Fireblossom at the Real Toads, Flash Fiction 55 (link)

Monday, I am linked with the Real Toads, Open Link Monday (link)

 

Her challenge:  "write a poem (I chose this) or a piece of flash fiction (next time again), about any subject, and in any form, as long as it is comes to exactly 55 words!"

Well, with the title I am sitting at exactly 55 words.  Classified as fiction, it very well could be true.  I know.  [Scrunched face.]

You don't need to tell me, I know that museum is not a verb.  But here, using poetic license, I made Museuming to be one.  For more Lautrec posts, click here, for a little of our Spring 2009 Europe Vacation click here.
As are other museums with all museums having clasics, the old masters works, Allbi's (France) Lautrec Museum is a place to spend at least half a day (link).   I never tire of 'museuming' in Europe's old art museums.

 

Paul Cézanne surprise

(click on any picture for larger view)