at home with ann

Archive for April 2007

Look closely
Every single flaw
No redeeming feature
Not in any light
No quality to delight
Devoid of worth
No merit
Hopeless to conceal
Own revulsion
Waste of space
Close up
Face to face
Reflection of
Mirror image
Found defective
Thoroughly dejected
Naturally rejected

copyright 2007 ann raven

Want to cry
Know not why
Mind’s a blur
Words obscure
All over the place
Cloaked in gloom
Try harder
Too hard
Doing best
Not good enough
Want to help
Say words nice
Goes awry
Comes back to bite
Impetus gone
At a loss
No drive
No will
At what cost
Stimulus dulled
Incentive lulled
Burnt out
Used up
Nothing left
But sleep
For ever
copyright 2007 ann raven

Watch out, baby alert… “here I come!”

Dancing in the sand – move over Michael Flatley

Like father, like son

The saga of the ballsThursday: none
Friday: 1 large yellow, 1 large orange, 1 small orange
Sunday: 2 more yellow, 1 frisbee
Monday: expected gardener ~ he didn’t show, huh! Called him, he claims he was either behind a bush or up a tree… hmmm
Tuesday – Thursday: NO balls
Friday: a little voice calls my name… please can I have my balls?

Little darling comes into my garden and throws them back himself. Seems this time he only knocked one over; his father did the rest! Say no more!Saturday a.m: 1 frisbee


Oh my word it has been a hectic week. The wedding plans are not exactly going to plan, despite a very expensive wedding planner. Jamie must call me on average, at least ten times a day. I don’t really want to talk about it as my hand instinctively reaches for another chocolate. Under stress, I eat! You see in addition to the wedding, I am planning to host the next night too. It will be Friday night, Shabbat and it will be something known as Sheva Brachot, seven blessings for the chatan and kala, the bride and groom. It is a lovely thing to do… please read the link.Then, to top it, I had my first sortie for ‘the dress’ with my aunt and my mother. I must go alone. I must go alone. I must go alone. We really went for mother, but of course I tried on a couple, well a hundred, outfits. I do not believe there is a lightweight, suitable for hot humid weather, evening dress that exists in the world that I will look even half decent in. I am rather too short and dumpy to do the floaty look… kinda makes me look shorter and dumpier, even with killer heels.

However it didn’t seem to stop me spending a small fortune on other, clears throat, must haves for the summer. In the pursuit of the perfect sandal (not for the wedding, stum, just because…) I found a most beautiful pair of bright coloured pumps to die for. They are now mine! But, I still need sandals. Well need is a strong word. Want, maybe. Would like. I think John Lewis in Bluewater have magic mirrors… everything I tried on looked good. I even bought an evening outfit for another wedding in Israel a few days later, except I don’t have the right sandals and bag… hmmm!

This is a good friend of mine… we’ve known each other since babies. It’s a sad story with a happy ending. Many many years ago she and her husband and children made aliyah (emigrated to Israel) and tragically he became sick and died. Now at last she is remarrying a lovely lovely man (even though he is Israeli) and please G-d she will enjoy long awaited and well deserved happiness.

In the meantime I am trying to read everyone’s blogs and by the end of the day I shall be commenting everywhere. Today I seem to have found my voice. I have even managed a couple of twee poems of my own (don’t hold your breath) and posted one from REH’s Singers in the Shadows.

Thank you Queenie and Annelisa for the, erm.. kind (I think) nomination for this award. They have amazing blogs oh, and for your information, they are fellow Brits… yeah! We rule! I’m not too au fait with the rules; I think I’m supposed to nominate five more, and I really don’t know where to start. I don’t do, ‘doing as I’m told’ and ‘following rules’ that well. Annelisa did a crafty, but it must have taken her an age… she nominated everyone she knows, bless her. I shall put my thinking cap on, seeing as it is a thinking blogger’s award. Certainly Queenie and Annelisa who have been nominated themselves, are worthy recipients; their blogs are brilliant.

My entry into blogging was through a tiny thing for Vincent D’Onofrio, well a passing passion, a mild mania maybe, a fanciful fixation, a foxy fascination, okay okay, an overwhelming obsession. Still there are some great blogs dedicated purely to the man himself… even I succumbed to opening one, albeit I post sporadically. It would be unfair of me to nominate any one of them, as they are all great and since this is the Thinking Bloggers Award, Vincent is the only thing these blogs think about… I am not complaining. I love them all.

Anyway as time moved on, my blogging wings spread to other interests and I have got to know the most amazing individuals; people I would love to meet face to face and one day hope we will. Working alphabetically down my links.

Axe: Axe has been through hell and back. Her prose is dark and menacing. Nothing I could possibly emulate; her writing sends thrills and chills through me. Unfortunately she is not able to post as she once did, but hopefully one day she will again.

Brian: Brian is my muse, my inspiration. He says he doesn’t suffer fools gladly; well he puts up with me. His photography is suberb. His writing is diverse; it’s a constant source of surprise and pleasure. He has taught me so much. Visit him and you will learn everything about him… and more, trust me.

Cathy: Cathy is a new friend on the blog; her writing is rich in prose and verse and about her life in Greece. She writes something called 55 flash fiction, I think. It is very clever. Her blog is insightful and witty and she has another one reviewing vdo films.

Rose Dewy Knickers: If you get to know Brian, you have to get to know my sassy sistah Rose. I won’t even attempt to tell you anything about her; she has her own manifesto that tells it all. Her writing is superb. Her poetry goes from strength to strength. Her interviews are funny and entertaining and not to be missed.

The Rev Dr. Kate: Kate is awesome. Words are not adequate to express how she manages her life as a single-mother, priest and student (yet another doctorate is on the horizon). Her blog brings sanity to the insanity of this world. She doesn’t preach; she doesn’t rant. Her words are wise and to the point and, where her family are concerned, often injected with much needed humour.

Post Secret: Not a blog to post comments, but one worth visiting for something interesting, sometimes sad, often humorous… very different.

Trinity-Star: Another Brit… woo hoo! Always a joy to visit with exquisite photographs, thought provoking quotes and amazing poetry.

Tom: Another joy for poetry and photographer lovers. Tom’s is another ‘must visit’ blog for me. He calls it his “Creativity Blog” … it certainly is full of his wonderful creations.

In truth I could list so many more… these are just a few of my ab fab favs, but everyone I have linked is an ab fab fav and the list is always growing.

My other dear muse had to have words with me again. Look at that face; how can you not love him? And isn’t he just gorgeous when he’s angry. He’s a little upset that I haven’t told everyone about his and mrsbg’s whole night at the latest New York hotspot. I grovelled a little; I promised I would get on the case; he forgave me. Guess I’d better do something about it!
Now on to the next topic that is bugging me. The joke and the cartoon are self-explanatory and as far as I’m concerned d-i-e-t is a dirty four letter word.

DEFINITION: Bathroom scales
Equipment which only seems to work correctly when one holds on to towel rail, stands on one foot and leans hard to the left.

Right, must get my act together. Going to visit my friend who had the foot surgery. It’s a beautiful day here. I do not drive on a Saturday and it’s a good 45 minute walk away. If I have one bad habit… well guess I have many, I am a very very poor timekeeper. I don’t know about Greenwich Mean Time; I run on Ann Mean Time. All my clocks seem to be set at different times and I don’t have a clue which one’s right. Not only that, I don’t care. There is only one place I clockwatch; yes, at yawn, yawn, yawn, work. I don’t mind getting in early; I don’t mind a short lunchbreak, but at the end of the day, I am watching the hands move slowly slowly to the top of the hour.

Bye-bye. Wishing you all a wonderful calorific weekend.

The wild sea is beating
Against the grey sands;
The woman, the sea-woman,
Stretches her hands.Her eyes they are mystic
And cold as the sea,
With slender white fingers
She beckons to me –

There are woods in the sea
Though the leaves are all grey,
The ocean’s pale roses
Lift dim in the spray.

I follow – I follow –
The grey sea-gull flies –
Ah, woman, sea-woman,
There’s death in your eyes.



Day is done
Sun dims
Dusk darkens
Shadows fade
Sky sable
Moon floats
Stars shimmer
Night falls

In the stillness of that night
She murmurs his name
In the silence of the darkness
She hears his breath
In the trick of the shadows
She seeks his eyes
In the waft of the breeze
She senses his presence
In the coolness of the heavens
She smells his maleness
In the glow of the moonbeam
She strokes his skin
In the depth of her dreams
She feels his touch

Night is no more
Stars veiled
Moon melts
Sky sapphire
Shadows tease
Dawn emerges
Sun rises
Day beckons

In the cold light of day
She says not a word
In the chorus of dawn
She hears not a sound
In the trickle of first light
She sees not his eyes
In the breath of the wind
She senses no being
In the warmth of the air
She smells no one else
In the glow of daybreak
She strokes nobody
In the depths of her soul
She feels… nothing

copyright 2007 ann raven


Posted on: 24 April 2007

Feelings so fierce they frighten her
Sensations so sharp take her breath away
Overcome by longing to know his strength
The power of him, a mere touch of his hand
A simple stroke of his fingertips would suffice
A subtle gesture is all she craves
Any tiny morsel she may glean
Any, any, anything

Gasping, her heart cries out
If truth be known, she covets more, much more
For she fashioned him a hero in her eyes
A champion brave, intrepid, bold
Words she cannot find in her quest to express
To expose his inner beauty, his humility
Desirous to prove her devotion, her faith
To parade the measure of him for all to see

She sees what others fail to see
Through his veins flows a passion intense
Still waters running deep, wiser than Solomon
His words strike mightier than any sword
Words profound, perceptive, pure
Clinging to each and every one of them, she is sure
With her heart and soul she believes in him
Would that he would, would that he could… believe in himself

copyright 2007 ann raven

For Him

Posted on: 19 April 2007

What thoughts cross your mind
when your paths cross
as they surely must?

Do you ever look at her and still see
the woman you once claimed to love
or the woman she is now?

Do you wonder of her life
at your hands she is alone
or is your heart still made of stone?

Do you ever look at her
remember times gone by
she made you laugh; you made her cry?

Do your loins stir at the sight of her
it used to only take one look before
or was it purely lust?

Do you think anything
anything at all?

copyright 2007 ann raven

I love this form… I make no claims to having any flair,
certainly not compared to others around these parts.
He taught me everything I know.

I appreciate I digress totally from its original intent,
but with poetic licence and a lot of chutzpah, I wish to
attempt a silly story…

… it may go something like this


Getting to know him
Eyes lock across the table
Feel salad in teeth

I’m a lucky sod
Never thought she would agree
Come on date with me

Powder room beckons
Spend penny, fix hair, fix teeth
That’s better go back

What’s taking her time
Ah she’s back looking divine
Pour another glass

Share bottle of wine
Feeling flushed and words slurring
First impression counts

She’s a right cracker
Must make a good impression
Maybe go dancing

Chat over coffee
Conversation light breezy
Wonders what he thinks

Penny for her thoughts
Can’t read her like open book
What do I do now

Tuck cold hand in his
Automatic reaction
It’s cold out tonight

This looks promising
Gives her hand a gentle squeeze
Maybe in with chance

Perfect gentleman
Knows how to treat a lady
Takes no advantage

Wonders if she will
We could go back to my place
Some girls do first date

Drives me safely home
Goodnight thank you kiss on cheek
Would you like coffee

Coffee and… breakfast?
Red fingerprints mark my cheek
Not that kinda gal

Too good to be true
Thought this one was different
Men are all the same

copyright 2007 ann raven

You left me sweet, two legacies,
A legacy of love
A Heavenly Father would content,
Had He the offer of

You left me boundaries of pain
Capacious as the sea,
Between eternity and time,
Your consciousness and me.

Mama doesn’ feel well, so one has to prioritise… first things first. What will cheer mama up this bright morning? Vincent sprawled out with a come hither look. That’s better. Now I know for a fact that a certain friend of mine, not a million miles away, okay about 200 miles away, lurvs this picture. Does your floor look like this? Oh please…

Said dear friend, thanks Jan, sent me this, which was sent to her by a man who got it from another man… of course. I can’t believe they had the nerve to send it to a woman… well a lady actually. Can you read the smaller print? I won’t copy the larger print; I’m sure everyone can see that.

How Do You Become Best Mates With His Mistress

Beer File: Men Who Drink More Are Better In Bed

Karin’s Story: The Fewer Shoes I Buy, The Better I Feel

Sport: All About The Offside Rule

Win Parking Lessons

Porn Voucher: Surprise Him With A Free DVD. Look Inside


I am feeling a little sorry for myself… my back’s being naughty, so I’m dosing myself up before I can leave the house. Well managed to get out last night only to return to an army of ants coming in from the patio into the living room and then marching through my kitchen. I transformed it into a winter wonderland of white and this morning I’m greeted by an ants’ graveyard… yuck! Anyone got any better tips on how to get rid of them.

Still one thing that turned out well. I lost my mobile (cell). The way to find it is to call it. I could hear it getting louder and louder as I dug deeper and deeper into a black garbage sack… another yuck… double yuck!

On top of everything, I have woken up with a streaming cold and I sound like a Disney cartoon character. All weekend I was sneezing… not a nice ladylike delicate sneeze, oh no, those sneezes that could move mountains, that shake the foundations of this house and actually make me fall off my seat. Everyone, such a loada know-it-alls, tells me to get … whatever … because I have hayfever. I have never had hayfever in my life. I have a common and garden bleary eyed runny nosed cold… aitchooo. Be right back.

Okay, just had to disinfect the monitor.

I am going to brave the elements; actually it’s a beautiful day here, and go for a long walk in the hope the exercise will loosen my joints and the air will clear my nose, after scrubbing this yucky floor.

Oh and did I say somewhere I would be delegating the job of the invitation list spreadsheet… silly me! Well I’ve done as much as I can, over one hundred names and addresses, it’s down to the other side to move their… move themselves.

Unfortunately another reason I feel sorry for myself is that because (this is my excuse and I’m sticking to it) of feeding an army… okay, my family, but it could just as easily have been an army, I ended up joining them for meals. I don’t do breakfast, but somehow I found myself eating matzah, butter and jam at each sitting. Lunchtime was another spread and of course we all sat down to a big evening meal.

I am fat. I am a bloated beached whale. I have not bought an outfit for the wedding which is in three months. Grrrrrr… Desperate times need desperate measures. Any tips on how to shed ??lbs in two weeks. Yes, double figures! I could cry. I am ashamed of myself. My thighs have taken on a life of their own, wibble wobble and women of my age cannot go around looking pregnant. My bottom is now padded… that’s fine, because it used to be tiny, but when the weight goes, that will go first, not my D cups.

My friend’s husband let slip last night that she was going to be in hospital next week and she hadn’t told us. I couldn’t believe it. I said you really are gonna have a nip and tuck and liposuction. After everyone spurted their wine all over the place, seems it’s a little minor foot surgery. Guess I was thinking about my needs… should I?

I am bad bad bad. I should have said “no” when I was invited out to dinner last night by these friends to a particularly lovely restaurant out in the countryside… and believe me it is v-e-r-y nice. The car park hosted some amazing cars… Bentleys, Aston Martins… lucky I wasn’t driving my 6 year old Focus… soon to be changed, but that’s another story!

Okay, guess I should move my lazy now fat butt and waddle out of here.

Have a good day… have a good week

Oh, one final thing and then I really will shut up. I don’t like to think I’m a blogging slut, promoting my wares. If anyone who passes by likes good poetry, there are many blogs I can recommend. However, if you like bad poetry, I was in scribbling mode over the weekend, so you may want to pop over here… or not!



‘It’s the hottest new diet!

You attach this special modem to your stomach

and upload your fat to a skinny person on the net!


the loves of my life

at the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet ~~~ plato

thank you…

... to everyone whose pictures and videos I have borrowed; if anyone would like theirs to be removed, please tell me and I shall be happy to do so

all words here are mine ~ I’ll tell you when they’re not!

from long ago

in case I forget what day of the week it is

April 2007