Feel that walking bass…

On the one level

it was a tango fandango.

A pink flamingo

a daring dance of dating

in the early throes of spring.

 

 

Shrill trumpet rising

sounds of Chuck Mangione

staccato toccata- reminiscent of Children of Sanchez

Conspiring to court Consuelo’s love

With a pink flamingo face.

 

One legged lover

with snazzy syncopated rhythm

with a strut to the left olé

and a strut to the right olé

strum that walking bass.

 

© Alison Jean Hankinson

Things have been out of kilter this month and hence I am a little behind in things.

For d’Verse….

This is Tuesday’s poetics prompt that I didn’t finish….merging with meeting at the bar- and all that jazz….incidentally I think pink flamingoes merge well with jazz…

Links to Chuck..

Children of Sanchez

The image is from Wikipedia and has creative commons licence:

File: James’s Flamingo mating ritual.jpg

http://www.flickr.com/people/pedrosz/

by Pedros Szekely,

 

 

Wish you were near.

If I could turn back the clock and revisit the years

The worry and fears would feature less in our lives

I would hold your hand tightly and cherish the tears

I would be kinder, argue less, smile more and realise

That the memories and moments and having you near

Are worth more than ever as ever-swiftly time flies.

 

©Alison Jean Hankinson

This is my contribution to the birthday open link night at d’Verse. I am a November birthday. This is about my children, especially my firstborn twin, who is a long way from home and is bravely making her way in the world with no family at her side. When I look back at all the moments I wish there had been more time not less.

 

 

Shades of 50.

It is done, my fiftieth birthday year finally gone

Kicked the ass out of that, had a bit of fun

Moved house and home,

And now it is done.

Heartaches and happiness all in one.

What a year, glad to move on to 51.

 

© Alison Jean Hankinson

this is a bit cheesy but all I could muster for this week’s Quadrille at d’Verse. I celebrated my fiftieth birthday in hospital and it has been a roller-coaster of a year and I think some of the biggest dips were in the last week, so I was a bit quiet….So tomorrow I start a new day, and a new year… and I will be 51.

I miss my Ellen though and would love to have her home with me. XXXX

Dear daughters

It’s never too late to change direction

If the path you are on is not going to lead to the life that you wanted then be brave, take a deep breath and take the fork in the road and change direction.

Don’t settle for less than you deserve. If you earned it then value it and value yourself. Don’t let anyone rubbish your achievements however great or small they may be. Every step forward is brave and courageous when you are journeying into the unknown.

Hold love carefully in your hands and hearts, it can be fragile and can break in the gentlest breeze or be strong and cross any void or vacuum. Take it for what it is and keep it safe in your memory whether it lasted a moment, a lifetime or an eternity.

Be kind to yourself. You are all you have. Don’t wrap yourself in cotton wool, but remember you only have one life.

Be kind to others. Be compassionate. They too will have a story, it might not be the same as yours but it will have laughter and tears, love, loss and heartache.

Ask for help when you need it. Sometimes a trouble shared is a trouble halved and there are souls out there who would gladly share their last supper with another who was in need.

Remember to look upwards, see the sunrise and the sunset. Look at the stars and the skies. There is a whole universe out there waiting.

Breathe. Slowly. Breathe. Take time to be in the moment. See it for what it is and then let it go.

Love always-

Mumma. XXX

©Alison Jean Hankinson

Visiting time.

It is a moment shared

Amid the peace and quiet

Of a drizzly afternoon.

 

No need to talk anymore

Our words and thoughts are feathers

Floating on the breeze

 

A smile, a nod to show we care

A hand held here

Love’s conversation needs.

 

© Alison Jean Hankinson.

The image is my great grandfather John Henry Mcclenan- he was in the military hospital.

18582095_10212827024255882_1154364948172281505_n

 

 

Autumn mists

We had to take Emily to a very early morning television shoot, she was being an extra. It gave us the chance to make the most of Tatton Park and the autumn leaves before the trees are rendered naked by Ophelia.  She became unexpectedly very ill and we rushed home and she was admitted to hospital. I had to come home and leave her there.

She phoned all awry and crying this morning and as I rushed to get to her I looked back towards the sea and saw the most amazing misty haze, and it was the calm before the storm, going into town the River Lune was like a looking glass. They have kept her in again and the wind is billowing and blowing.

Calm before the storm

Sea mists rise and hazy hues

Leaves flutter and fall.

 

©Alison Jean Hankinson

This is for d’Verse. Haibun Monday.