Crabbage

Crabbage -Digital media - George Roberts September 2017

I prefer a vibrant Cromer crab

To those that look quite pastey

I buy them from the fishmongers slab

Because they're so very tastey

You cannot eat too many Crab Hors d'oeuvres

It's OK to hog a piquant Crab Tart

Crab Gnocchi is the best you can possibly serve

But Crab Curry will make you fart

'The delights of a Cromer Crab' Anon 2017

Rainbow sunset

Sunset rainbow over our Backyard

After a day of heavy rain the sky began to clear from the west and the setting sun was just high enough above the horizon to create this faint rainbow in the eastern sky. A beautiful ephemeral atmospheric phenomena. I love the way nature demonstrates the seamless amalgam of science and art in works of improbable beauty.

Rainbow Connection 

In no more than thirty seconds

See a rainbow tied pale between rain clouds

The sun tired from aurora display shines muted:

As a blush on the cloven sphere of a breakfast peach

Suffuse warm pink that is a new born grandchild

On a cheek that marks passing passion

Through a glass of rose wine

Reflected on a single feather from a flamingo’s breast

Diffracted by crystal droplets that sustain life

To commandeer senses

To fire emotions 

To warm body and soul

To stimulate intellectual wonder

And then it’s gone.

- George Roberts

A nice memory whilst 'pokin' around in the Loft

Scarclffe Woods circa 1974 - Watercolour - George Roberts

Whilst looking for a canvas in the loft I found this old watercolour that I painted when I was in my twenties. It used to hang in my late Mother in Law's home in Derbyshire. Today I hung it on the wall in our sitting room.  Every time I look at it I will think of Marjory - she was a very nice lady, modern beyond her time, who was very fond of poetry - so  - 'Here's looking at you, kid'

Whose woods these are I think I know.   

His house is in the village though;   

He will not see me stopping here   

To watch his woods fill up with snow.   

My little horse must think it queer   

To stop without a farmhouse near   

Between the woods and frozen lake   

The darkest evening of the year.   

He gives his harness bells a shake   

To ask if there is some mistake.   

The only other sound’s the sweep   

Of easy wind and downy flake.   

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,   

But I have promises to keep,   

And miles to go before I sleep,   

And miles to go before I sleep.

 

'Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening' by Robert Frost