This is rather a long post - didn't realize until I read it through - thanks for taking the time to read my musings.
Enya - How Can I keep from Singing?
Good Morning and welcome to Ruby Tuesday - may there be sparkles in your day and wherever you go may you find gems and jewels- it may be in a song, a smile from a friend or stranger. It may be in a short conversation at the bus stop, waiting in the line at the shopping centre, where you buy your coffee. May you find the jewels and gems that are out there waiting for you.
Music has always meant such a great deal to me - which is why I post the link to a song each day and I try to make it appropriate to my posting. I don't play any instrument - but would have loved to play the piano. Strange mix up in my family - I was dragged to ballet and dancing lessons every week and hated it and would have been blissfully happy to sit and play the piano yet my cousin would have been in seventh heaven if she could have danced, but was forced to endure piano lessons and exams.
I would show her the steps I had "learned" and she would teach me a few notes on the piano. I don't think either set of parents could have seen what was wrong, it would have been great to have been able to change places. I didn't learn much at dancing - when I should have been standing and learning steps at the Barre I was doing somersaults over it and always in trouble. I used to wear my tap dancing shoes outside on the cement because if i danced hard enough sparks could fly from the metal toe caps of the shoes.
I really don't know how my Mother could not see dancing was not for me when i would run away and hide and we would miss the bus week after week.
I don't have a very good singing voice for solo work but managed to join the School Choir and loved it - I also sang in Church choirs and am fine if I have someone to lead.
I also used to belong to a Speech Choir and we recited lovely poetry and that for me was bliss.
We recited pieces from "The Water Babies" and from the Bible - David's Lament over Jonathon - and I can still recite both of those pieces.
The beauty of Israel is slain upon thy high places:
how are the mighty fallen!
Tell it not in Gath,
publish it not in the streets of As'kelon;
lest the daughters of the Philistines rejoice,
lest the daughters of the uncircumcised triumph.
Ye mountains of Gilbo'a,
let there be no dew, neither let there be rain, upon you,
nor fields of offerings:
for there the shield of the mighty is vilely cast away,
the shield of Saul, as though he had not been anointed with oil.
From the blood of the slain,
from the fat of the mighty,
the bow of Jonathan turned not back,
and the sword of Saul returned not empty.
Saul and Jonathan were lovely and pleasant in their lives,
and in their death they were not divided:
they were swifter than eagles,
they were stronger than lions.
Ye daughters of Israel,
weep over Saul,
who clothed you in scarlet, with other delights;
who put on ornaments of gold upon your apparel.
How are the mighty fallen in the midst of the battle!
O Jonathan, thou wast slain in thine high places.
I am distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan:
very pleasant hast thou been unto me:
thy love to me was wonderful,
passing the love of women.
How are the mighty fallen,
and the weapons of war perished!
from Charles Kingsley's "Water Babies"
Clear and cool, clear and cool,
By laughing shallow, and dreaming pool;
Cool and clear, cool and clear,
By shining shingle, and foaming weir;
Under the crag where the ouzel sings,
And the ivied wall where the church-bell rings,
Undefiled, for the undefiled;
Play by me, bathe in me, mother and child.
Dank and foul, dank and foul,
By the smoky town in its murky cowl;
Foul and dank, foul and dank,
By wharf and sewer and slimy bank;
Darker and darker the farther I go,
Baser and baser the richer I grow;
Who dare sport with the sin-defiled?
Shrink from me, turn from me, mother and child.
Strong and free, strong and free,
The floodgates are open, away to the sea.
Free and strong, free and strong,
Cleansing my streams as I hurry along
To the golden sands, and the leaping bar,
And the taintless tide that awaits me afar,
As I lose myself in the infinite main,
Like a soul that has sinned and is pardoned again.
Undefiled, for the undefiled;
Play by me, bathe in me, mother and child.
From The Water-Babies.
T.S. Eliot's Macavity was my favourite and it delighted me when it was used in the Musical "Cats"
Macavity's a Mystery Cat: he's called the Hidden Paw--
For he's the master criminal who can defy the Law.
He's the bafflement of Scotland Yard, the Flying Squad's despair:
For when they reach the scene of crime--Macavity's not there!
Macavity, Macavity, there's no on like Macavity,
He's broken every human law, he breaks the law of gravity.
His powers of levitation would make a fakir stare,
And when you reach the scene of crime--Macavity's not there!
You may seek him in the basement, you may look up in the air--
But I tell you once and once again, Macavity's not there!
Macavity's a ginger cat, he's very tall and thin;
You would know him if you saw him, for his eyes are sunken in.
His brow is deeply lined with thought, his head is highly doomed;
His coat is dusty from neglect, his whiskers are uncombed.
He sways his head from side to side, with movements like a snake;
And when you think he's half asleep, he's always wide awake.
Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity,
For he's a fiend in feline shape, a monster of depravity.
You may meet him in a by-street, you may see him in the square--
But when a crime's discovered, then Macavity's not there!
He's outwardly respectable. (They say he cheats at cards.)
And his footprints are not found in any file of Scotland Yard's.
And when the larder's looted, or the jewel-case is rifled,
Or when the milk is missing, or another Peke's been stifled,
Or the greenhouse glass is broken, and the trellis past repair--
Ay, there's the wonder of the thing! Macavity's not there!
And when the Foreign Office finds a Treaty's gone astray,
Or the Admiralty lose some plans and drawings by the way,
There may be a scrap of paper in the hall or on the stair--
But it's useless of investigate--Macavity's not there!
And when the loss has been disclosed, the Secret Service say:
"It must have been Macavity!"--but he's a mile away.
You'll be sure to find him resting, or a-licking of his thumbs,
Or engaged in doing complicated long division sums.
Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macacity,
There never was a Cat of such deceitfulness and suavity.
He always has an alibi, or one or two to spare:
And whatever time the deed took place--MACAVITY WASN'T THERE!
And they say that all the Cats whose wicked deeds are widely known
(I might mention Mungojerrie, I might mention Griddlebone)
Are nothing more than agents for the Cat who all the time
Just controls their operations: the Napoleon of Crime!
(Narelle this is for you - from your much loved "CATS"
Wow - I have dug deeply into memory there and enjoyed it too - both were very severe pieces and recited with great passion. Macavity was lighter and such a wonderful use of words. We won several competitions and it was the best part of School apart from History lessons with my beloved Miss Webster. We did much lighter pieces but these are two that are firmly etched in my brain.
There is often a diverse selection of music playing in my home and very often several poetry books on a table or beside my bed - hence my love of writing myself.
When I sit down to "blog" I often have no idea what that day's post is to be about and yet at other times it is carefully planned during a long and sleepless night. We have gone from Winnie the Pooh last Tuesday to such deep and meaningful things this Tuesday - we are versatile if nothing else. I had no idea where today's post was going until I listened to music just before I got out of bed.
If I had the money I would buy myself a baby grand piano and employ a very patient and tolerant teacher to teach me to play.
Thanks for taking to time to read "The Musings from My Heart" and to learn a little more about the complex things that make me who I am.
All three of these pieces have been gone over and over during my time in hospital when sleep would not come.
With all of these lovely things in memory and mind and the fact that I am alive and well - HOW CAN I KEEP FROM SINGING?
Love and hugs,
Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life. ~Berthold Auerbach