The Setting Sun

Someday we will all learn to live together in peace and harmony

Sixty Hours

Sixty Hours

Smoke, blasts, billowing clouds Billowing curtains from carved windows The railway station now also has it's widows. The city, in a daze, unable to grasp Daily life has stopped; now suddenly Mumbai, in a stupor tries to awake from This nightmare without an end. One dawn, many down. Second dawn, many down Third dawn, day has come What will this city become? Sixty hours of tears, fears and passion Sixty hours of waiting, hoping for compassion The rat-tat-tat carries on, carries on The loved ones have go on to become Victims, heroes, or statistics When the day is finally, Finally and irrevoccably done. Cry, city, cry Shed your lonely tears on the beach Sixty hours, and your loved ones Are far beyond your reach. In this dying we are all one In tragedy we are all one. Now our day is finally, with sad finality, done. Copyright: Rani Turton 26, 27, 28 November 2008 Dedicated in hommage to the victims and those who who gave their lives to protect the city.

Tears: Mumbai

Tears: Mumbai

Third day running So many people down Never going to go home Never going to go home. Tears in this crowded town Silence broken by gunshots Tears in this crowded town Lives laying themselves down. At the end of it all Nothing much to tell God must be wondering why We seem to revel in Hell. Copyright: Rani Turton 26th November 2008

This Point In Time

This Point In Time

Then come to me with the breeze ruffling your hair The setting sun in your eyes The same blue as the sea and the skies Then the whisper of your presence will tell me You are not far Strange thoughts will come to mind That the sea is smooth tonight That the harbour is full of light That the cafés overlook the piers That the rain will fall softly on already wet cheeks And gentle waves slurp into the creeks That waiting here is a fallacy That I should be somewhere else at this point in time That I should be somewhere else at this point in time. copyright: Rani Turton

Chrissy's Cat

CAT AT THE BOTTOM OF A GARDEN....AND VOILA A WORK OF ART!














"I started to paint again after many years of not doing anything. I wanted a nice flower and couldn't find a good image for my cards so I painted one. Then I started to paint fairies and elves for myself. This one was from photograph taken by Andy, I love this Kitty. She isn't ours but she appears at the bottom of our garden for all the world like a little fairy. She is very petite and pretty. I have kept this painting for myself. I mounted it nicely and put it in the kitchen, I always said it made it a little like a french cafe, she has the french "something" indefinable ... and I love France and the people. If anyone is reading from the bar a few streets down from the Sacre Coeur with the collie dog that hates motor cycles, hello from me again ":-D

http://chrissymaries.blogspot.com/

http://chrissys-oil-paintings.blogspot.com/

Chrissy was kind enough to transmit this fabulous painting of this lovely cat (worked in water-colours and gouache) an allow me to use it in this blog. Going through Chrissy's blog is an eye-opener. Luckily for us, she loves France so who knows? she might visit! In the meantime go through her work, it is really lovely.

Copyright: Painting of the cat: Chrissy Stone

By the permission of Chrissy

The Depth of Longing

The Depth of Longing

On this steep slope that leads to a far-off frontier

There is nothing, not even a guide.

Intention, detention and retention

Freedom lies in blue skies

Where lies my destiny?

A thread unravlled here and there

And a restless, weary spirit travelling

Never resting, never unravelling

The skeins of that silken yarn

To match the depths of the longing

The longing of the single solitary star

Skimming is cosmic spaces, brilliant and bold

The long-lost memory of belonging

For a single instant to somebody somewhere sometime

In an epoch that vaunts the lack of belonging

To the depths of this longing.

Copyright: Rani Turton

Chez Betty

We stopped for a quick sandwich chez Betty during a visit at Provins. The cadre was lovely, the street outside, the walk almost anywhere around the marvellous buildings in this medevial town called Provins. The street is, as befits a medevial town, fittingly cobbled. Betty kindly agreed to let me take this photograph of her and her universe.

(With the permission of Betty).


Aux Delices de Betty

45 Rue du Val

77160 Provins.

MAMAN by Indrani

MAMAN by Indrani, at 7 years.

I have often been amazed by the beauty of children's art. What is that enables children to cut out the details and get down to the essentials? I don't know if I have the heart-shaped face and lovely pouting red mouth of this dream lady, or the dreamy eyes, which I doubt, but that is the vision that somebody had of me!

Forgetting, But Not Forgotten

Forgetting But Not Forgotten

Trite phrases galore Memory plays tricks with time Mirages that with the years Made believe what was unreal. If I had thought I would have lived so long Or come to this sad sorry pass I guess I would have said-pass But time trickled on Like sand in the hourglass There's a perpetual reason to go through the years Amazing as it may well seem Some think its destiny And others a form of being free And here in the midst of modernity What is the belief that keeps people scurrying Jumping running sprinting panting Living lives that build and build Mushroom clouds, and you and me and them And women free and unfree Walls that are higher and higher Time, pass me by please Leave me against this old stone wall Just leave me be. Copyright Rani Turton 2008

Auberge Saint Martin, Surville

We happened to pass at the right place at the right time, which is to say, lunchtime.

The reception being warm and courteous, we decided to tuck in. The menu at 11 euros exceeded our expectations. Entrée, plat and dessert. Quantities being copious and the produce fresh and frankly delicious.

During this blog, I have written about people who have been met by hazard and who have, by the charm of their personality, have confirmed my decision to give them space in this blog. The Auberge St Martin is one of these charming places that in France one happens upon by accident or destiny and always plans to return to when one is in the region. Normandy is known for the simplest meal being a gourmet's delight, due to the quality of the region's produce. Butter, cider, liqueurs being just a few of the products that contribute to the high quality of the cuisine.

The pictures show the outside, the restaurant and the owner of the restaurant, Mrs Torres, a charming and courteous lady. The link to the Auberge will give you all the details.

Auberge St. Martin

Route Rouen

14130 Surville


Nous passions au bon endroit et au bon moment, c'est à dire à l'heure du déjeuner.

L'accueil étant chaleureux et courtois, nous avons aussitôt de prendre place. Le menu à 11 euros a dépassé toutes nos attentes. Entrée, plat et dessert. Un repas copieux, des produits frais et franchement délicieux.

Dans ce blog, j'évoque les gens rencontrés par hasard et qui, par le charme de leur personnalité, méritent que d'autres s'intéressent à eux. L'auberge Saint Martin est l'un de ces endroits de charme que l'on trouve d'abord par hasard et que l'on se promet de revoir impérativement si l'on repasse dans la région. En Normandie, les plats les plus simples contentent les gourmets, en raison de la qualité des produits de la région. Beurre, cidre et liqueurs contribuent également à la qualité de la table.

Les photo représentent l'extérieur de l'auberge et l'intérieur, sans oublier Madame TORRES, à qui nous devons cet accueil à la fois chaleureux et courtois. Pour d'autres renseignemenst, voir les liens.

Auberge St-Martin

Route Rouen

14130 Surville

www.aubergesaintmartin.com