Said one silly chook to the other,” Well, I did warn you that your bed of roses ideas would sink us.”
laughter in silence, silence in laughter
THEN
Daddy fell into the pond!
And everyone’s face grew merry and bright,
And Timothy danced for sheer delight.
‘Give me the camera, quick, oh quick!
He’s crawling out of the duckweed.’
Click!
Then the gardener suddenly slapped his knee,
And doubled up, shaking silently,
silkannthreades 
Oh I so enjoyed this! 🙂 I can see that gardener slapping his knee ..
The image is as clear as a bell, isn’t it! Have you ever fallen into a pond? I don’t think I have.
Not a pond, but our creek many times 🙂
😀 😀
They are so cute and look alive!
I think so, too. Normally they sit on my kitchen window sill. On that day, they were getting a wash.
I enjoy how you integrate the words of poetry within silence. Poetry, as in art, sends a message to readers or listeners that is received in different ways. I have really enjoyed your readings on Youtube. Your serene voice and welcome to each ready brings us to a place of reflection. I’m so glad that I joined your journey into silence. Hugs and love!!
You are so kind, Clanmother. I am looking forward to producing more readings in the New Year.
Smiling silently 🙂 🙂 They’re priceless!
They are indeed. I love them, especially for the smiles they bring me.
Thank you for a lovely early morning smile, and for sending me off to find out more about Noyes. I remember having to learn The Highwayman by heart at school, probably to recite as some event, though that part is vague. I was really surprised to find he died only a few years before I was born. I think, only knowing that one poem, I imagined him to have lived in early Victorian times (in so far as I’d thought about it at all).
Yes, I found learning about Alfred Noyes most interesting. Glad I brought you a smile. Any let up in the rain? We had a beautiful day, at last.
We’re having a lovely stretch of sunshine and clear skies. Not sure how long it will last, but I am appreciating every moment.
Wonderful. 🙂
Oh I have just followed you on Instagram.
Thanks. I am very random on Instagram — i haven’t quite worked out how I should use it. 😀
I haven’t really worked it out either. The first thing that happened was I got inundated with requests and follows from men?computer men?Obviously people who hadn’t looked at my profile photo, nor looked at my Bio. I was quite shocked. It didn’t make me feel merry and bright.
Creepy! I have had my account for a few years, and forget about it for months at a time. It’s interesting to see how quickly people unfollow if you don’t follow them back. Which in my case is most of the time as I really don’t want to see pouting teen-girl or muscle-man selfies 😀
Me neither. I wish they would hurry up and unfollow me.
I wasn’t familiar with “Daddy Fell into the Pond” but a real-life incident in which a woman who was texting fell into a fountain at a shopping mall made a big splash in the news here a few years ago.
OopI I guess some of us, like the Daddy, can be clumsy even without text walking. I know I am, so I would be in double trouble if I attempted to text and walk at the same time.
Your phrase “text walking” reminds me, appropriately, of “sleepwalking.”
I am not surprised. They have similarities!
Isn’t it true that the best Christmas memories often involve what didn’t go right? That’s part of what makes the film A Christmas Story so appealing: it’s one typical household disaster after another, right up to the dogs stealing the Christmas turkey. This poem has the same spirit; thanks for the introduction.
Linda, your comment brought back memories of the Christmas my family decided (why, I don’t know) to have a coconut frond for a Christmas tree. It was a very bad idea. We discovered once the frond was inside that it was home to myriads of little flying critters , and they almost smothered us; was it resentment at, and revenge for, being disturbed? The frond was quickly put outside, and, as far as I recall, we didn’t have a Christmas tree that year. But I recall that non-tree more clearly than many of the lovely trees we had over the years.
well, not silly, but quite… candid and naive! 🙂 I told you why @ your Facebook page… 😉
Indeed! Until today, I have only ever called these two, the silly chooks. They were a gift from my sister. But as I was fiddling with the image, I decided they would make a perfect Pertelote and Chanticleer, as you saw on my Facebook. 🙂 Chanticleer was, of course, not particularly silent. 😀
Oh, that’s such fun! I went and read the rest of the poem–and how clever was Daddy, to save the day like that? The only poem I knew by Noyes was The Highwayman–this one is way more fun!
Yes, I love it. It really makes me laugh.
My sentiments exactly!
The loveliest part is that the event is so exactly portrayed that we can see the image without the camera.
Wooooohoooo! Looooong time no nuthin. Sending lots of love from Berlin 🙂
Hello, lovely Nath. So good to see you here. I thought of you, yesterday, as I came home from the hairdresser. I have a new signature style. Maybe I will email you a photo if I can find your email address? Would you like that?
Yaaaaaay! It’s beautycalypse at gmail dot com 😀
It’s very different from the signature style I once did with flowers in my hair; that’s still one of my favourite styles ever. Remember this?https://silkannthreades.wordpress.com/2014/08/10/5145/
Yes, of course I do! Can’t wait to hear from you ❤
Email sent. It has attachments so hopefully it won’t go to your spam email.