Stop Press!

Lost is found! Ada had gone walk-about in the snow, which explains the silence. 

Now I've done my St Bernard Dog impression with the brandy flask, I hope she will soon be back to her old self (a warm hearted harridan whom I love!)

Will I Never Learn?

Apparently not. In forty years I've not found the right way to gauge whether a gentle leg pulling will send Ada ballistic or not... She is greeting me with stony silence, leaving me in no doubt that I have met with her displeasure. This makes me sad...

And contemplating the subject of sadness, I sat here in my lonely corner this afternoon and wrote the following lines...

From A Sad Cad

Bojour, tristesse! If you translate the phrase
into English, its poetry is lost. I defy
anyone to find two more perfect words
with which to express the same emotion,
implying, as these do, that happiness has fled.
A door has been opened to a vista devoid of joy.
Colours dim, sensations of mind and body
are dulled, and the world grinds to a halt.
Where is the key which will wind it's spring, start
cogs and wheels whirring, and rebuild
those foundations on which content depends?
Could it be no more than communication?
Another step towards understanding
the workings of imperfect human minds?

Cor, Look!

Rinkly Rimes had a picture prompt from Monday's Child today - it caught my attention, and gave me a perfect opportunity to speak of a subject which, over the years, has caused me not a little anguish. The clue will be in the last line...

Dire Warning - er - Warbling...

Beware the Queen of the night!
She flies when bats are winging,
and could give us a fright -
especially if she's singing!...

Bit like Ada in the shower, then?

Skating On Thin Ice

That's what my Beloved is doing! She is publicly maligning me again! Insinuating that I'm still playing a saxophone (badly), when she knows full well, I GAVE IT AWAY* to keep the peace (not to mention the quiet!) and have taken up the gentler art of comb-an'-paper serenading.

But Ada's poetic offering of a Skater's Waltz sing-along-song*, in reply to Willow's prompt*, reminded me I once did a similar thing, when trying to serenade Beloved, HERE*, using a tune from the Old Crow Medicine Show.                                                                                      

(*Click these links to see for yourself. )

But, back to the present.  Being contemplative by nature, I gave the photo a colour wash to add mood. before writing the following lines.

Unanswered Questions

Frozen in time, the three prim and proper
ladies posed for the photographer.
Was his camera atop a tripod, black
cloth draped, while he counted seconds?
Or had the photographic art progressed
to the stage where a simple box
of tricks, held in the hand, was enough
to record their sortie into the snow?
Did a professional lurk beside the ice
hoping to amaze his subjects? Did he
charge a fee? Or was the occasion informal,
history recorded by some unknown
family member proud to be the owner
of a new acquisition - a camera?

Microfiction Monday #66

Mighty Warrior doubted his twin's masculinity, the day he tried to fight with a sunshade, instead of a sword.

Thank you Stony River for the prompt!



N.B. It now appears that Ada was peeking over my shoulder and purloined my idea somewhat- I may need to claim a forfeit in recompense for her plagiarism... Any suggestions, Blogpals?

Sorry Pardon!

Stony River produced a delightful photo for her Microfiction Monday #65 prompt, but one of her followers, Madeleine, provided another view of things which I have purloined. I hope both parties forgive my temerity in mixing and matching their ideas here!

 






Every picture tells a story -
this one's pretty clear -
Every shiny sculpture
also has a rear!

What Do You See?

Willow gave us a Magpie Prompt open to any interpretation this week. As I've been cogitating on one or two fights on the home front in recent weeks, I make no apologies for going soft on a global scale, and writing this as my contribution today.

Plea To Humanity

Build a human tower,
give it strength to live
and learn to work together,
to pardon and forgive
the petty altercations
that block the way to peace,
until a world emerges
in which all warrings cease.

Magpie Tales # 46

Willow's picture for MagpieTales this week set me pondering about the ongoing good natured sparring in the Trellis Household, so here is my tongue in cheek offering, Which, as luck would have it, also counts as a Friday 55 for no less a person than G-Man!.

Round Two, Seconds Out - Ting,Ting!

Iron fist in a velvet glove-
Ada pummels me with love!
Dancing round the boxing ring,
she makes all my senses sing;
right hook here, left jab there-
we were an unusual pair
of LOVE BIRDS huddled on our perch,
I, often left in the lurch
but always game
to beg for more of the same!

Why not come and sample the latest shenanigans of Cad and Ada HERE on A Trellis Truce?  You might enjoy them! Each of the links in this poem will show you another facet of the Gem that is the  Trellis Household!

Meet Trellissimo!

Anyone who has happened upon A Trellis Fencing, or any staunch follower who is hoping for some action from me, Caddoc, needs to make the acquaintance of this gentleman, Trellissimo, who is currently employed as a PR Guru and general Overseer Of The Peace Pact between my wife and I HERE. Today we have combined our previous blogs, A Living Hell and A Trellis Fencing, but Blogger cannot combine our erstwhile followers. We are Billy No Mates!

Why not come and say 'Hello!', and perhaps treat yourself to a catch up of the pre-Christmas cavorting of Ada and Caddoc, in their efforts to regain harmony in their lives. There are bound to be laughs along the way... we are both funny people! And how!

Now, while I'm here, I shall wish you a Happy New Year from me and mine to you and yours. And probably Trellissimo would too, if he knew what I was about...He likes restoring the peace...

Lingering Thoughts

After The Bus!

A Bus might do for poems

but where presents are concerned
it's Santa's Sleigh that counts the most,
it needs no three point turns.
It navigates the airways
far better than a plane,
and hovers over chimneys,

come wind, or snow, or rain.

Santa's  rotund figure
still manages to squeeze
through chimney pots or CH vents
because he aims to please
the lucky children, snug in bed,
who close their eyes and snooze,
while Santa gobbles up mincepies
and, here and there, some booze.


For somtimes on the mantlepiece
a little glass of sherry
waits patiently for Santa
to make sure he stays merry
and full of cheer at Christmas time,
instead of getting narked
with spending half of Christmas Eve
a-fumbling in the dark.

Beep! Beep!

So, this is what Ada does when my back is turned... She either thumbs rides with a shaggy dog, or chases a  
Poetry Bus!


To Ada's little diatribe,
I'd like to add my voice -
I'd really like to share her ride,
(I promise, minus mice!)
But just for now I'm hiding out
back in the potting shed...
I think she's once more wanting
to cuff me round my head...

So if I have to buy my own ticket, here goes...

Warning to Dodgy Doggy Drivers

There was a young dog from Ashdown
who drove a car all around town.
But he started to cuss
when he hit a red bus
which caused him to have a breakdown.

Thorns

There are thorns more cruel than those which grow
on scarlet roses. Invisible but sharp
their barbed and treacherous weapons pierce my heart
and cause more pain than you will ever know.
You choose to blush and say it is not so,
that you would never think, when we're apart,
of dallying with any young upstart,
and yet that blush has set your face aglow.
I would that it was caused by none but me,
that I alone could light your inner fire
and fan its flames. Who's kindled new desire?
What young and foolish lover could there be
who captivates, then makes of you a liar
bent on making sure my eyes won't see?

Oh, Woe! Am I Undone?

And no, I don't mean I need to check my trouser fastening! Look what was delivered to my Beloved when my back was turned this morning!>>>>>>>>


SOMEBODY has been trying to undermine me by sending bigger, brasher, bolder coloured blooms than the ones I chose for my Ada!

Here are my tastefully arranged blooms, meant to signify love and devotion. They were delivered in my absence, accompanied by that mystery bunch! The florist must have been wondering what the occasion was for Mrs T to be showered with bouquets in this unheard of fashion.

Now I am wondering how she will explain them away, when I confront her... Mrs Ada Trellis, explain, explain!

Cad's Morning Moan

Snow trees stand about my garden.
Weather gods I WILL NOT PARDON
for freezing my spuds and sprouts and
                                                    leeks.
I pray this won't go on for weeks...



Thanks to my Beloved I have bought a ticket for this mysterious Poetry Bus, although it may have difficulty going anywhere without a snow plough in attendance. Perhaps I need to explain, although the third of the DriverBug's choice of subjects was bare branches, there are none around today, as they are all covered with snowflakes - I hope this won't make my ticket null and void...

Third Instalment

 

The End

The record player was to hand,
and rather than a Colliery Band
or Male Voice Choir on the spindle,
(and you may think this a swindle)
the 45 played Ballroom Dancing!
Cad and Ada's sprightly prancing
warmed them up and kept them cosy...
And what happened next?

 Well, don't be nosey!

Second Instalment

The Middle

In flowered garments, satin smooth,
my Ada did not try to move
away from my arms' warm embrace,
but settled happily in place
with head beneath my stubbled chin.
"Come in, my dear", she cried, "Come in!

Come, sit you at the kitchen table,
the soup is hot. If you are able
to eat it so...But maybe...we could...
(don't you know...?)
try something which is just as good
at warming up cold hands or heart...
we have been very long apart..."

First Instalment

Wishful Thinking

The Beginning

The halo of the kitchen light
beckoned to me Thursday night,
I strode towards my lady love.
Could we join like hand in glove
and finally come to erase
the past few warring, lonely days?

I knocked - the door sprung wide-
and casting every doubt aside
my arms reached out with glee.
But what is this? A vision? She
who stands before my eyes
is radiant. What a surprise!

Her shopping trip was worth the while,
her transformation made me smile.
Here again was my sweet Ada,
not one who, before, had made a
lemon appear sweet! This siren
might have inspired Byron!

For a recap on the story so far, you may need to go HERE

No More Mr Nice Guy

Never mind about tomorrow lunch time!!! Enough is enough, my little Stingray. Haddock has no wish to turn into a frozen fish finger overnight, and the barometer is falling. Snow is on the way. I need a helping  of your hot soup NOW, if my extremities are to remain intact, for the left over pizza I had for lunch did nothing to improve either my temper, or my temperature. I shall be knocking and entering by the back door in approximately  five minutes, so get that soup on the hob pretty damn quick...

Solution To The Saxophone Problem

Please note Ada,  I have donated my instrument to a worthy cause! I will never play another note on it. This shows where it is now.
So farewell wind instrument...

and hello silence!

Late Edition Extra...Silence which has now been broken by the dulcet tones of my beloved! I've been TOOTED! And she's bought me a new hat, apparently, though I have yet to be presented with it.

Wonders will never cease!

 

I hope she remembered it needs to fit my 23 1/2" head...

Another Plea To Ada

Empty is my cup; its tarnished face
rebukes me. When did it drain dry of love?
The heady wine of passion will not slake
a thirst which longs for tenderest embrace
from loving arms. A hand in velvet glove
could lead me where it willed, and I'd forsake
all other paths. I call upon your grace
of spirit, hoping it may rise above
recriminations  for my past mistakes.

I have to thank Magpie Tales for providing a picture which had exactly the right emotional feel for my latest outpouring to my Beloved.

Strictly Not For Kiddywinks

Another Monday's Child prompt tempted me to add this piece of naughtiness in my ongoing attempt to woo my lady love. See HERE for stage one, or HERE for stage two, or if you need further clarification, see Ada.

Ada the Queen of my heart -
this little Welsh Dragon upstart
is starting to pine.
O, won't you be mine?
Love,
Cad
the silly old f**t.

P.S. don't miss the previous one of today's posts ! It shows my thoughtful side much better than this tarradiddle.
Here's the link for you.

Poems For Ada

Life was one long hand-hold

In the Springtime of our life together
we had time to talk and exchange thoughts.
But fate, which falls the same for many people,
soon forced another path, one often fraught
with accusations, discontent and tears.
We ourselves destroyed the peace we sought.
Now, through conscious change, may we not take
a better heed of lessons life has taught? 

But things changed.

Time to start again.

I would shower you with fragrant petals,
serenade you underneath the moon,
if you would condescend to smile upon me,
and forgive the paltry efforts of a goon
who'll try his best to win back your affection.
I hope that you will give your answer soon;
I'd like to wind time back to our beginning...
May I suggest a second honeymoon? 

Message To My Beloved Part 2

Perhaps you would have understood better, my dearest, if I had posted this version of the song I was trying to serenade you with - no scantily clad pouters in sight. But I must say the Golden Lady with the dark hair in the first version bears more than a passing resemblance to your good self in the days of your youth, don't you agree?

Having survived the night here in the potting shed,  I now present you with my adaptation of verses for you to sing as you play your guitar, accompanied by my banjo.


Song For Ada

"Rock me, Mama like a waggon wheel,
rock me Mama any way you feel "-
I'm your Caddoc and sure, I'm real!
Oh Mama!
(plinka-plinka-plink-plink)

Dig my potatoes and trim my leeks -
be the perfect lady love that I seek.
You can pluck my banjo any day of the week
Oh Mama!
(winka-winka-wink-wink)

Let's forget the warring and call a truce-
trip the light fantastic 'til we both turn puce
and need to drink a gallon of orange juice.
Oh Mama!
(drinka-drinka-drink-drink)

Sorry the YouTube clip seems to begin at a strange place, but click to play anyway...The words are fine as long as you ignore the spelling mistakes!

Message To My Beloved

If you want to meet the lady in question, pop over to  HERE - but be prepared for a surprise, perhaps...

Confession Time?

The Hour Approaches

I hide behind my trellis with alarm.
The witch's dust may signify my end
and force me to admit the truth I hid -
she is is my best and truest lifelong friend.

Beneath her outer shell there beats a heart
as soft as any pink and white marshmallow,
which, once toasted to perfection by my fire,
could melt the very core of this poor fellow

who stands before you. Hapless in my shed
I while away the hours by chasing dreams
of how to pave the cobblestones with gold
to lead us to a better life. It seems

the longed for time may come upon us soon,
when both will be content to work as one,
though love, not magic, will  provide the cure...
Perchance our fighting days are almost done?

To understand what is going on, it might help if you were to visit HERE first! Then you need to realise all these moments in time were sparked by Willow's Magpie Tales prompt this week. If you are still puzzled - then Gesundheit!

Times Are Gettin' Hard, Boys...

So I've started thinking about alternative Christmas Goodies. How about these for tasty Festive treats?

Method.

After whacking, skin carefully, dip in egg and breadcrumbs, and fry in butter until golden brown. The tails make perfect pick-up points, as they remain relatively cool at all times.They may be decorated with red or green ribbons, to add to the Seasonal Jollity.

Mind you, you will need strong teeth to masticate these bony morsels to a consistency where swallowing is possible. Their bones are somewhat tougher than sardines or pilchards...

N.B. Nobody in their right mind is expected follow this recipe...

Kiddywinks Korner?

Not in my shed. But this picture prompt I saw on Dr FTSE's blog got me thinking.

WARNING-  

Children and animal welfare exponents READ NO FURTHER!

Rat Man Rant

Mice aren't nice.

They gnaw.

What's more,

they're twice

as quick

as my stick.

But in my shed,

I like them DEAD.

Poison pellets

in shallots

might work.

But why shirk

the death blow?

POW!

Splat!

That's that. 

I believe thanks are due to BKM at Monday's Child  and Phoebe Ericson, who drew the original way back in 1947 . Both would no doubt be scandalised at my interpretation...

Now Look At Me

Do you wonder, after Life With Ada, that I have become a crumpled wreck? For her latest Cad knock, she has crept into my shed and made shards of my special pots! Their broken parts carpet the bench where I had them neatly stacked and some have been ground into the shag pile rug I rescued from a tip. I said my shed had hidden depths. Shag pile, leather recliner, blackout curtains - oh yes, they're all there in my Home From Home corner...
I can see I shall have to go to B&Q today to replace my pots. Thinks, should I next replace potty Ada?

Once I was Handsome

...plus 'E'!  As edited later, thanks to Dr FTSE
Look at me! Once upon a time...

I told you my shed was like the Tardis. It managed to hide this photo for years, underneath a bag of Growmore. So, now it has surfaced, I can let you see me back in my glory days...

Don't all swoon ladies, but if you bump into Ada, do tell her what she's been missing for all these years?

Wishful Thinking

If only...

Ada, as usual, sat there unsmiling.
Despite the harsh treatment
and relentless grilling
her man remained true.
But this was thrilling -
she knew what to do!
Open her heart,
her legs and her arms
and welcome her husband
with all of her charms!
Why had she spent long years
frigid and cold,
when the warmth she had longed for
could be hers to hold?

"To have and to hold"-
was that not the vow?
She pulled out her mobile
gave Caddoc a call.
"Come to the shed now -
I will reveal all!"

It was dark in the potting shed,
until the moon
lit up the wheelbarrow-
made Ada swoon
as she realised Caddoc was
eager and willing,
as he stood in the doorway
where moonlight was spilling...



My imagination was incapable of proceeding beyond this point- possibly just as well. But if anyone knows of a potent love potion that would make my Beloved act in the manner heretofore mentioned, please tell me how to acquire same? I am getting desperate, you can tell...