Two poems for spring

Taraxicum officianale (the common dandelion) in the Alexey Tolstoy crater on Mars. Widely considered to be the first proof of extra-terrestrial life. Photo courtesy NASA 2026. When astronaut Bud Blowhard tried to discover the time from a Martian dandelion clock he had to stop at 2,500,603 o'clock.  The low pressure atmosphere on the planet makes seed removal by blowing extremely problematical

 The Dandelion Fields of Mars​

The fields of dandelions on Mars

Have yet to be discovered.

But I won't be at all surprised

The day that they're uncovered.

Those yellow things get everywhere

It makes me quite forlorn

They can't be killed or driven out

Especially from my lawn.

I'm absolutely certain

They do it to annoy

For growing where unwanted

Is their single, simple joy.

When men land on the planet

And upon its surface burst.

The red planet will be yellow

'Cos the dandelions were first.

Nick Mellersh 2016

The rites of passage of the Liver Flukes

The rites of passage of the liver flukes

Don't feature is the lists of world's great books,

Where human rites of passage,

Had you wondered

Are in all but seven of the first eight hundred

And this is very odd because you see,

The flukes have eight, while we have only three.

Note: Liver flukes have the most amazing life cycle, first as eggs, then a swimming thing, then a parasite of a particular sort of snail, then as more swimming things then as parasites in (mostly) sheep and cattle livers and people's livers if they are unlucky!. For more see this

What's all this to do with spring?

You may reasonably wonder what these have to do with spring. The answer is that they are about the fecundity of life here on earth and the surprising fact that we can't find it anywhere else. All the more reason to cherish it, and ourselves, right here.

I personally think that God produced liver flukes to win a bet. There doesn't seem any rational reason to believe that anything as complicated as them could possibly survive, let alone thrive which they do.

Talking of the wonders of nature, one of the world's great books is Pilgrim on Tinker Creek by AnnieDillard. It doesn't actually talk of liver flukes but covers many equally strange and wonderful things. Read it if you are interested in the complexities and beauties of life.

Ebook news 

Jeanie's flute book Illustrated Fluteplaying written by her and Robin Soldan will be published as an ebook this summer.  To find the latest news go to illustrated-fluteplaying.com

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Poems for Holy Week

Holy Week: A peek into Christ's Diary

It's going to be an awful week. Look at my diary

Sunday: Ride on donkey while crowds shout at me to fight and defeat the world's biggest army.

Monday: Kick out the cheats from the temple and get cursed for doing it.

Tuesday: Try to teach but get interrupted by tiresome know-all fanatics asking me trick questions.

Wednesday: Same as Tuesday. Then, at night, sweat blood praying we might find another way

Thursday: Supper with supporters. Nice, but most don't understand me and one plots to betray me. Arrested on my midnight walk.

Friday: Whipped, hauled in front of the Roman governor, crucified.

Saturday: Wrestle with the devil in hell, or so the myth-makers say.

Sunday: Come back alive. I hope. They'll be talking about it in two thousand years if I'm right. But sometimes I think maybe I'm not.

It's going to be an unholy awful week.

About Holy Week

Well Easter has come round again.  And  I thought I should put this poem up on the blog again.  What struck me when I was preparing an art exhibition for the church was how short a time these events took.  All in seven days.  Whether you are a believer or not (and to my mind this doesn't really matter) the world was changed by these seven days.  

It is interesting to think what Christ might have prayed on that Wednesday night.  A thought I had was that maybe the alternative to him going ahead with the crucifixion was quite simply ending the world just at that moment. "Enough of this failed experiment Father.  Let's cut our loses and start again."

Anyway since this poem has been on the blog before, here is another one religious one.  About how twisted and imperfect people are.

Pink Hyacinth

 

Pink Hyacinth I hate you,

Look, you should be blue.

Your colour is a sort of muted pink

Your growth is small and stunted.

Your scent bred out of you.

Pink Hyacinth I hate you.

And yet …. and yet …and yet

Pink Hyacinth I love you.

I love you for two things.

First the good intentions of the men

Who turned you pink.

But most, because, in spite of all,

You still remain a Hyacinth.

Men are the same,

Twisted away from our true beauty

Into shapes and colours that are wrong for us.

Perhaps God loves men (and me) the way I love pink hyacinths.

Nick Mellersh Jan 2015

And a last thought while I am looking through old poems.  I often have long talks with my counselor (a very impressive woman click here to read more) about ambition in life.  While religions urge us to try to be perfect and to be discontent when we fail, counselors seem to urge us just to try and be more or less OK and make the best of it.  The religious view seems too hard, the counselor's view too depressing.  Both are speaking to one or other side of the truth I suppose. Anyway here are my thoughts on this tangled matter.

All-right

When life is “all-right” well, that's sort of all-right

Well it's nearly all-right, well it's almost all-right.

Yes being all right, is sort of all-right

But it don't seem a target to aim for.

Maybe being all right is really all wrong

For “all-right's” not the life that we came for.

But being all wrong, to continue the song

Is the place where the most of us wallow,

And above the all-right, well we'll fall from that height,

There's a truth that we all have to swallow.

Nick Mellersh 2015

Anyway, life goes on as usual.  Jeanie is putting up some iPad paintings on her blog.  We have found a way to show them being built up stroke by stroke and hope to put up a serious video on painting on the iPad pretty soon.  Meanwhile you can see a few pics being created stroke for stroke on her blog.

http://ipadpainting-jeanie.blogspot.co.uk/  and there is my daughter's blog to look at too.  Interesting stuff about bronzes, https://mellersh.wordpress.com/and finally try looking at my nephew's latest film.  It's a bit of fun.http://www.5greedybankers.com/

Valentine's poem for Jeanie

I thought this was rather neat and it gave Jeanie and me a lot of fun. She;s great!  Hope you enjoy it too.
Nick

PS: a new drawing coming up on Jeanie's life drawing blog http://ipadpainting-jeanie.blogspot.co.uk/

PPS:  We;re working on the ebook version of Illustrated Fluteplaying.  Hope it will be available this summer.  More soon.

PPPS  Our daughter Lucy has recently created a couple of amazing bronze women nudes. A picture is below.  You can see more and learn about the process of creating a bronze from her blog.

https://mellersh.wordpress.com/2016/02/20/casting-in-bronze/

Bronze by daughter Lucy Mellersh.  Learn more at her blog 

 

Is it true our pretty Christmas story?

And is it true

Our pretty Christmas story?

No never true, for it is more than true

The heart leaps at it.

It is a doorway into joy that each of us can enter.

The angels singing. Surely we hear that whisper when a baby's born.

The ox and ass bowing their heads.

It's right, for every child knows that in some ways,

The beasts see more than we do.

Then come the curious, shepherds and wise men,

The peasants and the sages both knowing

That something very new is here.

And last those two who haunted the doorways of the synagogues.

Anna and Simeon

Suddenly their doubt has ended

It's come what they'd been waiting for.

And was it like the pictures in our minds

An English landscape, snow, Mary a pure bred Anglo Saxon,

The baby blue eyed?

No it was not. But that's no matter.

No matter how we see it, it can be our way

to see that God is in this fearful world and cares for it.

For this is more than truth. It is a doorway into joy.

This Christmas let us go through the doorway.

Nick Mellersh 2016

Today (Sunday Jan 31) is Candlemass  the last act in the nativity story. When two strange prophets Simeon and Anna tell Mary that her son is something very amazing.  Heaven knows what Mary thought.  Weren't the angels enough without having two eccentric old pensioners disrupt the Christening?  Anyway here's a holy poem to mark the end of this Christmas.  I hope it makes you think.

The work on the ebooks continues and we are making good progress on Illustrated Fluteplaying as an ebook.

As ever there is a new set of drawings on the sister blog currently showing "A nude a week", well almost every week anyway.  See http://ipadpainting-jeanie.blogspot.co.uk/

Poem of the week: How Freya became the world's best football player

This is the story of a girl named Freya

Who became the world's best football player.

It all began as a sort of mistake

When her mother baked her a beautiful cake.

She was almost eight and for her birthday you see,

There were eight sugar fairies playing under a tree.

Each one was lovely, but best of all

Was the one who was running and kicking a ball.

Her birthday party came and, out of control,

Freya grabbed that fairy and swallowed her whole!

The next thing that happened was really frightening

Freya was struck by a bolt of lightening.

And everyone said “How good and speedy!

It serves Freya right for being so greedy.”

But Freya stood up, not dead at all

And said “I really must kick a ball.”

She ran to the garden as quick as quick

Found a ball and gave it a terrific kick.

It went through the walls, it was kicked so hard

And knocked the top of the London Shard

And traveled, at twice the speed of sound,

And landed in Arsenal's football ground.

Arsene Wenger said “I must have that player.

There's a name on the ball and the name is Freya.”

They found her and taught her to head and pass 'n all

And soon she was in the first team at Arsenal.

The other team laughed at the big surprise,

She was eight, and a girl, and was half their size.

Their captain said “Go easy on her mate”

But Freya had the ball and then it was too late.

She dribbled round the captain, quick and neat,

Ran through his legs and round his feet,

She jumped over his head and the crowd all roared

Freya gave a kick and Hooray!, she scored.

And she scored and scored and went on until

Her team was winning 50 nil.

The other team soon forgot their sneers

And every one of them left in tears.

After that Freya was a huge sensation

She was in all the papers throughout the nation

And her playing career went up and up

Till she played for England in the big World Cup.

They were playing the final against Brazil

There was a minute to go and the score nil – nil.

And the crowd was shouting to every player

"Pass the ball, pass the ball, pass it to Freya!!"

She got it with only ten seconds to go,

How she ran so fast we will never know.

She made each man look like a silly one

As she dribbled through the legs of every Brazilian.

Then she kicked with all of her heart and soul

And it broke the net of the Brazilian goal.

The crowd all cheered and every player

Was shouting “Hooray! Hooray for Freya”

There were fireworks and music. It was quite as scene

As she took the World Cup from the Queen.

There were shouts and cheers and a great big fuss

And she rode at the front of an open-topped bus.

Now each team in the world are wanting Freya

'Cos she is the world's best football player.

They said to her “Freya, see how this sounds,

We want to give you ten gazillion pounds.”

But Freya said “No that's not for me

I want to go home to my Mum's for tea.”

And so she did.

Nick Mellersh 2016 The quick sketches by Jeanie see her blog at http://ipadpainting-jeanie.blogspot.co.uk/ where she puts up a nude drawing most weeks

Happy new year to you all.  Hope you are happy with the change from the serious to the ridiculous.  That's how life is it seems to me.  Nick

PPS: Went to see this great film last night written and directed by my God-daughter's husband.  It's real fun and we hope it will go far see http://www.5greedybankers.com/

Poem of the week: Granny in the poo

The day Granny fell in the poo and was chased by hounds

Here's a story of our Granny,

She may be old but she is canny

Gran does what Grans never do,

And one day she FELL IN THE POO!

And then was chased through woods and bogs

By an excited pack of dogs!

Granddad and she walked on the downs,

Where you can view the sea and towns.

They walked past an old famous pond

To see the countryside beyond.

Then Gran saw something she thought might

Be some old prehistoric site.

A place that could be very old

Where she’d find, jewels, bones and gold.

“I wonder what this thing could be.

I'll climb on top of it and see!”

She took one step, and then took two,

There was a squelch beneath her shoe,

Her foot went in, what could she do?

It was a pile of old sheep poo.

She knew that something had gone wrong

When she first smelt the horrid PONG!

Oh what an awful sight to see,

One leg was in beyond her knee.

The other sinking rather fast,

And every step might be her last.

She shouted to her husband Nick

“I’m falling in.  Please help me, quick”

Nick answered “Grab my hand. You must!

Roll and you won't go through the crust.”

So she rolled down and all was well,

Excepting for the awful smell.

She stood up then and almost cried.

She said, “I really might have died!

I didn’t like it – nor would you,

To drown in piles of smelly poo!”

The two of them made quite a scene,

Their feet and legs were browny green.

Then Granny said, “Here’s what we’ll do,

Run to the pond. Wash off the poo!”

They ran, looked round for men and houses,

And seeing none, took off Gran’s trousers.

She washed her legs and feet so green,

Till they were moderately clean.

Then suddenly a fox rushed by.

And granddad said "I wonder why ...."

Then they heard barks and hunting sounds

And then they saw a pack of hounds!

The hounds smelt Gran and thought "That knocks

Spots off the boring smell of fox.

Lets go and see what it can be

It smells like paradise to me."

And so the hounds all turned and ran

Until they had surrounded Gran.

They barked and woofed and wagged their tails

And licked her toes and feet and nails.

They swallowed both of granny's socks

The huntsman shouted "Chase the fox!"

"Let go my trousers "Granny screams

They'd grabbed her trousers by the seams

And two dogs pulled on both the legs.

"Don't pull so hard" our granny begs.

But then there was a tearing sound

A pair of shorts lay on the ground.

The huntsman yelled. "Your stupid stunt

Has totally destroyed our hunt.

There's only one thing I can do

I'll set the hounds to chasing YOU!"

There wasn't any time to plan.

Gran grabbed her pants and off they ran!

The hounds came after thinking "Well

What fun to chase this lovely smell."

Well, just imagine how it feels

When hounds are biting at your heels.

They saw a tree and did not stop,

Till they' had scrambled to the top.

When they looked down all they could see

Was hounds who barked around the tree.

The huntsman shouted "Just my luck.

Hounds must go home - I hope you're stuck!"

And so they were. Stuck in the tree.

They didn't dare climb down you see.

A woman rode up on a hoss.

"Oh Lord" said Granddad, "she looks cross."

She shouoted "YOU get off my land!
You hippie nudists shoulld bel banned!
You totally destroy my view.

The tree is ruined and I'll sue!"

Then Granny said "We can't get down"

The woman gave a haughty frown.

"I'll call my men who have an axe.

They'll cut you down in forty wacks."

She called, and Granny's heart went thump.

Gran said. "We're going to have to jump."

They jumped and ran, it wasn't far

Until they'd got into their car.

"Come back and give your name I say"

But Granddad quickly drove away.

When they got home they had to laugh,

As they sat in a lovely bath.

Gran's trousers, just to end my song,

Had one leg short, the other long.

 Nick Mellersh 2009 for our golden wedding party

With Christmas coming I thought the tone of this blog needed lightening up.  We have been on gloom and war all through November.  Seeing my only fan is my great niece, I thought she and others lucky enough to have a childish  temprament enjoy this tale which is based on a sort of truth.  Granny did step into a pile of sheep poo on the downs thinking it might be some historic tumulus and did wash herself in one of the dew-ponds you find up there.  The story about the hunt and the tree is, thank goodness, fiction.

Don't forget to look at the sister blog "Nude a week" by my wife, where there is a sweet little Christmas film see http://njeanius.blogspot.co.uk/
And don't forget my father's ebooks at njeanius.uk, an excellent Christmas present for anyone interested in the story of the first World War. 

Hope to put up another of these stories during December and a holy one for Christmas sorry it will have to be orthodox Christmas or Epiphany now£.  Meanwhile happy Christmas to all my readers (hope there are some!! I'd love to hear from you.

,Love Nick

three world war 1 books

 Here is a video I have just made about the three World War I books written by my father.H E L Mellersh.  They are now being published as ebooks.  This is a link ro the website www.njeanius.uk where you can read bits and buy them for your ebook reader whatever it may be.