
Sprit’s free to wander?
Belief keeps order.
Mysteries to ponder?
Gravity keeps order.
Earthbound spirit, let go,
Seek out the blue yonder.
Ask or you’ll never know!
(c) Robert Jones 2013, All Rights Reserved
Even changing the linens is now a chore
Due to ever increasing shadows
And mobility issues galore
Where once I moved with agility and grace
Now body movements are slow and thoughtfully paced
I will not name these age old developments
For to do so would just slow me more
The moral of this tale is clear —
Turn your back on Time
And hope He neglects to be near
I stand in the light
For only you… to see,
I write of the stars
And the whispers of
The wind…
For you…
So you can hear…
What my heart speaks,
I paint pictures
Of my passion so
You can feel my passion
So you can feel
Just how much my
Body aches for you,
Even with all my fears
You made me believe with the
Love you showed me…
You are the beholder of the key to my heart,
To my love…
With my loyalty and devotion,
And I know what your heart speaks
Beats…
Maybe we fear love
Just the same…
But I believe…
Mi Corazon is
Yours…

In world terms my closest family are from a tiny area on the planet. Dialects within the United Kingdom are diverse and can vary dramatically within a short distance. My father’s family were from Shropshire and Kent. My mother’s from Birmingham and the Black Country.
My accent is heavily influenced by my relatives from the Black Country and Birmingham. I can still hear my mother saying: “Stop pithering about”, meaning “messing around” or “wasting time” and my grandfather saying “Ar” meaning yes as in “ar I am”. A popular method of transportation in Birmingham is the “buzz”.
One of the many sayings that originate from the home of my ancestors is an actual place. The Wrekin is a hill in East Shropshire. It gave birth to a popular phrase used in Wolverhampton and the West Midlands: “All around the Wrekin” meaning to take an indirect route to a location or to more commonly avoid getting to the point during a conversation.
In secondary school I landed the part of MacFarlane a Scottish Doctor in the play Hobson’s choice. A combination of not being able to master a scottish accent and having such a strong Brummie accent led the director to rename the character Dr Stonehouse, after a pub in Birmingham so that I could play the part in my native tongue.
I didn’t consider my accent a burden until in the last year of secondary school my family moved 25 miles south to Droitwich Spa, in the county of Worcestershire. This was the first time I was teased about the way I spoke. As if it were yesterday I remember the moment in a French lesson when In a broad Brummie accent I read Marie-France et Jean Paul vont en vacances en Espagne. I was rewarded with the waste paper bin bouncing off the back of my head much to the delight of my peers.
At the first opportunity I left home, to go to college in Blackpool. My studies took me further north on work placement to a Lake District hotel. This time my nemesis took the form of a Geordie, (person from Newcastle). They thought it was hilarious to repeat what I was saying with an exaggerated accent. “I’m going to the shall-eyes”. The chalets were two demountable buildings out the back of the hotel serving as staff accommodation.
I find it amusing when people realise I’m from England. I tell them how long I’ve lived in Australia and they say “you haven’t lost your accent”. I have no intention of losing my accent, but it is inevitable for me to pick up a bit of the local twang, “fair dinkum mate”.
The foundation of my accent was laid by my family; softened in response to peer pressure and has evolved by moving county and country.
Pet fish have featured for most of my life, Mozaic is featured above.

I wrote the following to describe the energy of creativity that builds within me before erupting. It seems appropriate that I include a photograph of Mount Vesuvius slumbering next to the Bay of Naples, Italy.
I took the picture from the terrace of the Grand Hotel Excelsior Vittoria, Summer 2012.
Like molten rock creativity churns
Deep within me, it spins, spits, spurts and burns.
Eager for release it seeks chink and crack
Sparks fly out too many to catch, to track.
Ideas settle, gain heat, grow strong, ignite.
Air fans the flames to inspire beyond sight,
Time’s consumed, no thought of hunger or thirst
Need only feed the inner seed to burst
Onto the physical plane to receive
Interest measured without need to deceive.
Brief relief from inner forces at work
Deep felt passion again begins to lurk.
(c) Robert Jones 2013, All Rights Reserved

A breath or breeze bringing music, a kiss;
It’s cool, it’s hot, it’s crisp, it’s warm, it’s cold;
Carrying Winter’s chill and Summer’s bliss.
What wealth would be reaped if twas caught and sold!
Fair sylphs ‘twined within the east wind do whirl
With graceful ease o’er rainbows wide they dance;
Through fluffy clouds on thermals fast they twirl,
They soar. Are they in danger? Not a chance!
Cannot be seen; doesn’t mean it’s not there,
Lots’ around yet far more precious than gold.
Endangered? For now there’s enough to share.
Can be cut with a knife; just try to hold!
During darkness of night and light of day,
Ideas and thoughts are shed just like feathers
Free as sweet incense floating up, away.
Not one’s intent? Best to attach tethers!
Anger can be heard as clear as a bell,
The strife of life cannot be ignored.
How can we tell if it’s heaven or hell?
Listen for the hoard or the lord with sword.
Wide eyed fairy’s sigh heard from on high,
Warn those below “trouble comes, be away”,
Shy souls now cry out in fright as they fly,
“No good will come; now go, leave the affray”.
Strained moments pass the tension is immense,
Time to think is bought and conflict caught short,
Need not choose from flight or fight, they’ve seen sense,
Once again destructive thought’ve come to naught.
(c) Robert Jones 2013, All Rights Reserved
Morning came after dreams of pain and healing
The road is long before me,
Will I find winter
Or the first signs of Spring
Painting the hillside golden?
Will you wait for me
While I journey seeking daffodils
Or will I return
To an empty place
That holds only dreaming?

Delicious drops of dew glisten in the
Cool light of dawn, slowly, slowly, dripping
From leaf from bud from twig. Clouds speed above,
Drizzle foreshadows a downpour, to drench
Landscape wide. Streams and brooks rush, swell, rise, run
Into rivers, flooding deltas, breaking
Free, flowing out to sea to oceans deep.
Dive into life giving blue, cleanse body
And spirit, swim west to sway with undines fair.
Grasp the chalice of aitch two oh. Deeply
Drink to link with Druids of old and new.
Oft’ used for scrying by many a seer
to reflect and look from seen to unseen.
More precious than diamonds, worth guarding well!
(c) Robert Jones 2013, All Rights Reserved
🙂
Pleasure taken
Anxiety relieved
Emotions renewed
Speculation evaluated
Motivation found
In the end
Relinquished
(Adelaide Central Markets. Edited Photoshop)