Despite appearances, I have not photoshopped that snap of dear little Ezra™. No, he really, truly does possess the kind of pensive eyes not normally found outside of Jersey cows and Japanese soft toys.
I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral
Comments
All I can truly say is...What "pensive" eyes you have
Ezra. What a very nice photograph as Jen, sits on the couch knitting.
Hi! Henry...Ahh! I see that you are reading author Graham Greene's books. (A friend gave me copies of his three book biography.)
Nice quote...Thanks, for sharing!
DeeDee ;-D
I'am back to wish Ezra, a Happy "Belated" Birthday!
(How apropos...It apppears as if he is looking me right in the face too!)
I was searching through your archives for that post, but I was unable to locate the post.
Take care!
DeeDee ;-D
Mr DeMille was delighted!