IF IT BE YOUR WILL
7 years on
POP GORDON BRAITWAITE 19 MAY 1926 – 2 MARCH 2
BREATHLESS – JB’s SONG FOR LYNNE
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
YOU ARE MY SISTER
SUZANNE – JONI MITCHELL
WHEN I’M GONE JOEY AND RORY
5 years
5 years on.
You are a Grandmother now. What a Grandmother you would have been ! What a Grandmother you are !
DAVID BOWIE 11 JANUARY 2016
PARIS TERRORIST ATTACKS
Thanks for all your kind words my Dear Friends.
The worse is for all the people who were quietly dinning in a restaurant and who have been massacred. And the hostages…..
We lost 120 souls at the moment for this night. But it would be worse, if the terrorists kamikazes had not mysteriously but “miraculously” missed their first attack in the stadium during the soccer match France/Germany (80,000 people in the Stade de France tonight).
I’m not afraid. I’m angry, so so so angry. Our President told us this night that now it’s the war in France and that we’ll keep a state of emergency for a long time. But I can’t call this massacre a war . There are no warriors. Terrorism is only an act (7 this night… and it’s not “par hasard” near the Charlie’s building) of cowards. I’m so angry for all these victims and because these new attacks will raise a new wave of hate tomorrow.
Special tribute for our doctors, nurses, firemen, policemen and soldiers.
Love to you all.
MICHAEL HARFIELD 14 NOV 2015
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.He was our North, our South, our East and West,
Our working week and our Sunday rest,
Our noon, our midnight, our talk, our song;
We thought that love would last for ever: we were wrong.The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
adapted from W.H Auden
Love from the Harfields.
PEARLY SHELLS 