Running away with a Christmas Sonnet

Go kiss your prince below the mistletoe

And hang those stockings high above the hearth

For Christmas is the one day you can show

The greatest love of all and peace on earth

Still, I wish you would take your Christmas cheer,

Pack the day with bows and loving care

And bundle it so far away from here

And don't you mention Grinches, don’t you dare.

For while the thought of presents makes some sing

And has the children dancing round the tree

Christmas makes me wish more than anything

That I could wash my hands and be set free-

Just wander off, enjoy the sunny beach

forget the rules, and

lie

in the

sun-drenched

sand.



And that was the plan this Christmas.  No stress.  Go to the beach.  

Yeah right.

ok the picture isn't of sun drenched sand,  - but that fin in the water is an orca whale :)

Anyway Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas and all that, love to see you in the New Year.

A.J. Ponder 

If you love sonnets and want to read some more "This Year of Fire"  and "Sonnet to the Muse" are fun, and if you want to learn how to write a sonnet The The Poetically Incorrect English Sonnet is there to help (watch out for the bad language though!

 A.J. Ponder's work is available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, and good Wellington bookstores And 

An appreciation of action soundtracks in suburbia

The car is

carrying an orchestra

out

on a mission.

Excitement tumbles by

on the beach

on the beleaguered wharf

                                    in the air -

even the birds find new purpose

        as they      strike

into the clouds

eyes peeled

in wonder

as even the sea is

ruffled,

nervous,

opaque,

unsure             

with impending danger.

Across the harbour

buildings

hide

behind cloud,

planes disappear

and  reappear

as we drive                 

in time

to heroically  

face

                          danger

every vital

second

                       until the   

 final triumphant overtones

transport us

                         all the way               
                                          to                 
                                             Wellington. 
A.J. Ponder 

 A.J. Ponder's work is available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, and good Wellington bookstores

Authors and Poets

Busy week, there's lots to do in the build up to Christmas - there's the obligatory making of Christmas Cakes and scramble to tidy the house and the garden, not to mention all those social event -  books, writing, books and more books - in my case ;)   

And like most people these days I'm also working - although some of it is fun -  Rona Gallery is putting on "The Santa Trap" (One of Peter Friend's and my School Journal Plays) for Christmas.   Not to mention the Christmas exhibition itself - and all the advertising.... so

So for a change I'm putting up about twenty favourite authors -  and in as few words as possible why they are so fab.  Feel free to contribute, I'm sure I've missed more than a few!

JRR Tolkein 

       for historical fiction that went the extra mythological mile

John Wyndham

        for disconcerting and surprising children     

A A Milne

         a bear however hard he tries grows tubby without exercise, 

         he gets what exercise he can by falling off the ottoman --

         and yet other authors seem to lack a certain good willed knack

         of finding love in little things, in toys and chairs - and crackpot kings.

Frances Hardinger

           the newest inductee.  Not for the prizewinning "Fly by Night,"

           but the bottomless well that is Verdigris Deep

C. J. Cherryh

          Down Below Station -  Enough said

Andre Norton

          The lady of science fiction herself   

Helen Cresswell

           There was winter, and there was birds --

            but I although I read the same words I could never read the same story twice

Roald Dahl

           Danny the Champion of the World, not to mention an abiding love of chocolate.

CS Lewis

          For opening the wardrobe door.

Terry Pratchett

           for raising a smile, and adding footnotes.

E.B White

          Thankyou for Charlotte, and your even more endearing mute swansong.

Diana Wynne Jones

           Ged

Mary Norton

           For making little people big.

Astrid Lindgren

          Two strong arms, plaits and an indomitable personality. 

Ursula K Le Guin

           Ged - and  more recently the little known Lavinia. 

Lewis Carrol

          A glimpse into madness,

Maurice Sendak

            One night Max made mischief - and the rest is history involving a boat and some very cute monsters.

Dr Seuss

           And the song of the swomee-swans rang out in space

Douglas Adams (both really I guess, but this one in particular) 

          Got towel - can travel. Don't panic.     

HG Wells

          For travelling back in time to get there first.

I hope you enjoy these authors as much as I do,
A.J. Ponder

A.J. Ponder's work is available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, and good Wellington bookstores

My very popular, Wizard's Guide to Wellington on my author webiste.

Over the Misty Mountains by JRR Tolkein (The Hobbit)

The Hobbit will be coming out at some point, and the thing is - ever since I can remember, I've had these opening credits running through my brain - Smaug devastating the dwarven keep, and flying off down river - his flames turning the water to gold.  Of course this would be accompanied by rousing chanting/singing possibly by the Samoan choir they used in LOTR, and using lyrics from Tolkein's Under the Misty Mountain.   (& preferably not the popular dwarven chant "Gold")

Of course much of this backstory is actually told later in the book, long after the poem - but in a movie it's surely better off upfront with the credits rolling after the fire hits the screen in full tacky 3D.  (Of course I never envisioned that - I mean back in the day 3D was the tackiest, I think my young self would have had an appoplexy ;)  Possibly, though, with the fact that the Hobbit will actually be two movies, maybe they'll leave Smaug's devastation until part two.  I guess so long as that Dale burns, the river turns to golden fire and Smaug looks like he belongs up in the air, dangerous, terrifying and almost elemental - then I'll be happy.

In fact talking about it, I realise some of the details of my little movie are blurring - what a shame, I'll just have to read the book again before I watch the movie.  It's been a long time since my children were seven and "The Hobbit" was the bed-time book of choice, and we were quoting vast chunks of  "here am I, naughty little fly..." Now the bed time reading is serious alone time featuring things like George RR Martin and Brandon Sanderson, and other such unwieldy epics  (ignoring the cute little cat books and the devastatingly off-putting reading logs).  So it will be sweet to get back to my favourite book of all time.

 I am so looking forward to the movie.  The LOTR people may bee playing with my favourite book for over thirty years... but they played LOTR pretty well, and even when I thought their choices were wrong it was still obvious that Tolkien's books had been treated with love and respect.  So bring on the movie.   And bring on the dragon, enter top right screen, turn toward us up the river and let those flames erupt!

And don't forget to read Over the Misty Mountains,  it has to be amongst Tolkein's best poems, not that I'm biased or anything.  But the rhythm is compelling.  I also feel compelled to add just the end of the shorter little ditty that Bilbo's cheekily sings to the spiders of Mirkwood...and I'm probably paraphrasing here and getting it wrong anyway..."here am I naughty little fly, you are fat and lazy, you cannot catch me though you try, in your cobwebs crazy."  It's so perfectly catchy for young uns.

FYI.  The book cover shown is the same copy I read to my children when they were smaller, illustrated by Alan Lee it is quite charming and has survived a lot of reading!

A.J. Ponder

A.J. Ponder's work is available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, and good Wellington bookstores

Wynken Blynken and Nod by Eugene Field

Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night
   Sailed off in a wooden shoe---
Sailed on a river of crystal light,
   Into a sea of dew.
"Where are you going, and what do you wish?"
   The old moon asked the three.
"We have come to fish for the herring fish
   That live in this beautiful sea;
Nets of silver and gold have we!"
                     Said Wynken,
                     Blynken,
                     And Nod. 

The old moon laughed and sang a song,
   As they rocked in the wooden shoe,
And the wind that sped them all night long
   Ruffled the waves of dew.
The little stars were the herring fish
   That lived in that beautiful sea---
"Now cast your nets wherever you wish---
   Never afeard are we;"
So cried the stars to the fishermen three:
                     Wynken,
                     Blynken,
                     And Nod. 

All night long their nets they threw
   To the stars in the twinkling foam---
Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe,
   Bringing the fishermen home;
'Twas all so pretty a sail it seemed
   As if it could not be,
And some folks thought 'twas a dream they 'd dreamed
   Of sailing that beautiful sea---
   But I shall name you the fishermen three:
                     Wynken,
                     Blynken,
                     And Nod. 

Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
   And Nod is a little head,
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies
   Is a wee one's trundle-bed.
So shut your eyes while mother sings
   Of wonderful sights that be,
And you shall see the beautiful things
   As you rock in the misty sea,
Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three:
                     Wynken,
                     Blynken,
                     And Nod.




I was cleaning out the house and going through the bookcase  when I found a beautifully illustrated book of a poem I have loved since my childhood.  So of course I rushed to the net to see if there was much variation.  Apparently not.  Nobody seems to be able to better the original, and I would have to agree, it is truly beautiful.  The edition above was published when my daughter was born.  So of course, just like her - it's extra special :)

The poem has such a lovely rhythm and tone and contains truly beautiful fantastic elements that it's hard to believe it was written over a century ago.   Originally published under the title "Dutch Lullaby" - presumably because of the shoe.  

A.J. Ponder

A.J. Ponder's work is available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, and good Wellington bookstores

Spider

Obviously I can't see you

dangling like a tiny stick

lurching

twirling

not spinning as such

vibrating upon the invisible thread

around and around

Obviously you're not really there

as you drop onto pages

vast as football fields

hiding in the subtext

Obviously 

Now spiders should always understand subtext.  After all I'm sure Charlotte did.  Which is possibly why they do so well at hiding in it.  This spider (a cute little katipo) isn't bothering to hide, but I can assure you the little house spider that dropped onto my page the other day, sure did.    

A.J. Ponder

A.J. Ponder's work is available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, and good Wellington bookstores

Dancing with the Devil to the tune of Lord of the Dance.

If this poem/song stops in a strange place - you're not seeing all of it, just click on the title. 

I ran to the devil

And the devil did sing

Take this pen

Sign 
On the dotted line

So I took that pen

And I signed my name

Now nothing will ever be the same

I asked for peace

And he gave me blood

For the dead don't fight

And they do not hold a grudge.

I asked for money

And I asked for fame

Now I don't want either

I've lost far more than I gained

I ran to the devil

and the devil did sing

take this pen and this parchment fine

and sign in blood on the dotted line

So I took that pen

And I signed my name

Now nothing will ever be the same

I asked for jewels

And he gave me those

But in the land where he dug them

Nothing ever grows

I asked for appliances

More than my share

Now my house is flooded

I can hardly breathe the air

So I ran to the devil

and the devil did sing

take this pen and this parchment fine

sign your name in blood right here

So I took that pen

And crossed out my name

Surely this time
Things wont be the same

Don't play with the devil

He doesn't care enough

Take your soul

And invest in other stuff

Don't sign your name

On the dotted line

For dancing with the devil

It will get you every time

Don't sing to the devil

With the devil don't dance

Take your soul

While you still have the chance

Don't sign your name

On that dotted line

For dancing with the devil

It will get you every time

Yes, dancing with the devil

will get you every time.

A.J. Ponder

Alright so it's not a "real" poem this week, just a bit of fun.  I haven't actually tried it with the music yet.  Must have a go sometime to see how close it is. :)

For more poems, why don't you check out the Tuesday Blog?  There's always a poem up for the week, and some fantastic award winning poets on the side bar to check out.

Have a great week.  
A.J. Ponder

A.J. Ponder's work is available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, and good Wellington bookstores