Ecclesia 2

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A touching, moving churchyard memorial to some of the war dead of 1914 – 1918.

saint-2b

Soon after the conflict some viewed WW1 as the war to end all wars. So when this memorial was erected who could have imagined such an amount of horror, suffering and loss ever being repeated again..?

words and pictures ©copyright rp 2016

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Post Dated

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I came across this recently, a post box which is at least 115 years old. VR stands for Victoria Regina (Queen Victoria), her reign being from 1837 to 1901. In theory, therefore, it could be 179 years old. I wonder how many times the lock has been changed?

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What a different world we inhabit now. In 1901 the car had only just been invented and plane flight was still a dream. And in 1901 Victoria was Queen-Empress of an empire on which the sun never set, head of state of roughly one quarter of the world’s population.

Now it’s not even certain the United Kingdom itself can be kept united for much longer. I don’t think she would be amused, but all empires turn to sand in the end. Some sooner than others.

© copyright words and pictures rp 2016.

Milly Reynolds Crime Fiction Author – Happy Saint George’s Day

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http://www.amazon.co.uk/Milly-Reynolds/e/B0056IY4OE/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1
http://www.amazon.com/Milly-Reynolds/e/B0056IY4OE/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1366716704&sr=8-1

English crime fiction author, Milly Reynolds celebrates England’s national day, which, rather conveniently also happens to be Shakespeare’s birthday.
Milly’s books simply could not be more English!
So, to anyone who thinks about England, has English roots, or who would like to recognise the positive side of this small country, which has contributed so much to the world – have a great day!

© copyright David F. Barker 2013

Poem: ‘Turning’

foam

Is there a point where the tide
stops,
a moment that I could see, or touch?
I’ve been looking
at tables giving times, exact
minutes of apogee, and it was
just here I’m sure,
right here,
where I pointed
and watched
and saw nothing, except
the foam stretch ahead of me
like phantom silk, all
along the buff triassic sand, as far
as I could see or walk.
“That’s where the waves
stop,” you said, “where the tide
turns back to the sea – and me.”

image and poem © copyright David F. Barker

Poem: Kit

Famous posthumous portrait of Niccolò Machiave...

Famous posthumous portrait of Niccolò Machiavelli (1469-1527). (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Somebody stopped me
in the Canterbury street, like a hand
on my arm which took me
by surprise. Two dark eyes full of
verve, like air fanning fire, arresting
me with their stare,
a challenge written with an effulgent
quill; in my mind I saw it tripping
over pages with invention
in sweet candlelight.

So many years before, a Kentish king
knelt before the altar in solemn
genuflection, and now
you, your head brimming with catechism
and heady charm, speaking out like
Machiavelli, Paul becoming
Saul to declare another truth
in your eyes, in mottos and tatty trinkets
of shop windows, which only repeat
your daring pose in ignorance

poem © copyright David F. Barker 2013

Poem: A Walk by the Sea

a walk by the sea

Without too much thought I took
to the beach,
followed the white lines of
breakers
leading me due north along that
fractured shore.

in no time at all the beach huts were
behind me,
removed by dunes and blurring
summer haze.

then suddenly
she was there
right in front of me, as if she’d
dropped
right out of the ether.

she was squatting down,
blonde haired and
quite young,
her blue-green dress hitched up a touch
showing small bare feet
half buried,
where the dry white sand
gave way to shingle.

I stopped
said hi
but she didn’t even look!
staring into that wide expanse
she could see
clear across the ocean.

looking down I admired her
gold-embroidered dress,
the delicate amber jewellery on
slim fingers,
her long hair matted by
the keen breeze.

then she looked up,
her eyes like cyan gems
and pointed to herself–
‘Elfhild’ I thought she said
sounding sort of German
or Dutch or maybe something
in between
but I didn’t speak a word.

not then.

she didn’t seem lost or in any distress
so I moved on,
giving her a faint wave,
after all, what business was it
of mine?
I carried on steadily
maybe half a mile or so,
felt the wind move round
south to south east.
I could’ve done with a jumper so I
turned back,
got up quite a pace in the end.
frankly I wanted to return
to see if she was alright –
but I saw only footprints
where she had been, where the shingle
gave way to sand.

walking to the shoreline something
caught my eye, a piece of amber
wet and shining.
I picked it up, held it
to the light
and smiled, looking out
to where the waves
were rolling in by the edge of
that German sea

poem and image © copyright Dave Barker 2012

‘And Then She Was Bad’ Milly Reynolds’ new ebook – out shortly!

Web

Milly’s new ebook, ‘And Then She Was Bad’, will be out on kindle very shortly. I think it’s her best, with all the usual quirkiness, with the added spice of a bit of strange love and passion! This time the intrepid Detective Inspector Mike Malone is up against one of his most spiteful targets and crosses swords again with an old enemy…

image and words © copyright Dave Barker and Milly Reynolds 2012