Photograph by Nikki Magennis, 2013, all rights reserved.
Davey Jones's Alphabet
Slow encrustations of moss, crackling of paint, accumulation and depradation of rust: this is a beauty I walked past twice a day for two years before I saw it.
All photographs © Megan Kerr
Tulips, Frost, Steam, Sunshine
Photograph: Nikki Magennis 2013, all rights reserved
Frost this morning; steam from my neighbour's boiler; sunlight catching the edge of the tulips.
Happy - Tessa Case
"Each item tells a story, reminds me of a memory or is a cool colour, and all make me happy"
        
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Many thanks to Tessa Case for permission to reproduce her photo montage. You can see the original post here and explore more of Tessa Case's photography, design, and creative living at tessacase.wordpress.com.
Piccadilly People - Dan Zappi
Many thanks to Dan Zappi for permission to share his music. You can visit his website at www.danielzappi.com and follow him on Facebook here.
We Have Known Treasure
We have known treasure fairer than a dream
Upon the hills of youth. And it shall stay
Jewelled in the distance, untarnished and supreme,
For the dark tentacles of life's decay never shall shadow it
Nor over throw its years like hours grown golden in the sun,
Its years lived full in the gathered light,
An amethyst across the sea of night.
For dawn and dusk we knew and caught our breath
With the exquisite maginings of Spring,
Lived deep, talked lightly of this stranger death,
And love grown wistful with remembering
A half familiar tune we used to sing, these were ours,
Love's touch upon our hands, music and flowers
Though in the faithless years they have no part,
These are the endless things, the real of heart.
– Anon
This poem is listed as Anonymous in Seven Ages: Poetry for a Lifetime (1992) edited by David Owen
Upon the hills of youth. And it shall stay
Jewelled in the distance, untarnished and supreme,
For the dark tentacles of life's decay never shall shadow it
Nor over throw its years like hours grown golden in the sun,
Its years lived full in the gathered light,
An amethyst across the sea of night.
For dawn and dusk we knew and caught our breath
With the exquisite maginings of Spring,
Lived deep, talked lightly of this stranger death,
And love grown wistful with remembering
A half familiar tune we used to sing, these were ours,
Love's touch upon our hands, music and flowers
Though in the faithless years they have no part,
These are the endless things, the real of heart.
– Anon
This poem is listed as Anonymous in Seven Ages: Poetry for a Lifetime (1992) edited by David Owen
For-sale table of forgotten dreams
One February, I found a for-sale table at the side of the Oxford canal, rain-stained and grey-weathered. This is what it offered for sale:
Photographs by Megan Kerr, all rights reserved
Photographs by Megan Kerr, all rights reserved
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