Calm are the seas we travel now,
the sail is down
how tranquil is the ocean,
we drift past the deserted islands
with their scattered palms and
fallen coconuts,
we lay on the deck, with bronzed
skin and salty mouths
calm are our seas,
the soft magnolia smell of warm breezes
whispers through our hair
all is blue, placid and serene,
I am here with you, for once
essential as the mainstay
Calm are our Seas…

Photo: Personal Oil Painting – somewhere special in Oman.

* N.B. See Comments for Dedication.
@ Copyright Susie Hemingway 2009

He dreams of Montazah

the palace within his mind

as he is quietly resting

I know he goes back in time,

the splendid ‘Salam-lek’ palace

built high on hills above

this turquoise studded jewel

secluded bay, entwined with doves.

Amid the palms stands clearly

this monument of  love

built from finest red bricks

a blessing from above,

smooth and graceful standing proud,

with white ‘najoods’ and sea around,

he would walk in verdant grounds

in peaceful harmony, no sound.

The quiet of these gardens

lush all, 370 fed-dans,

would take his heart in a myriad walk,

his feet on fine white sand.

He dreams of  Montazah, the palace,

always within his mind

this paradise inn of time,

he enters gates that keep the crowds at bay

which for him are opened every single day,

and when he’s tired of strolling

I know just where he’ll go

leaving  gazelles and rock gardens

and the flowers he loves so,

he’ll step across the water

to the island of all time

where classical statues never alter,

in plethora there to stand,

and here he’ll fish or flirt,

or swim, in sunlit sheltered bays

and for a little while,

he remember all those days,

“Montazah” keeps him peaceful

I see the smile again, and when

he sleeps tomorrow,

he’ll go right back again…

* najoods – sand dunes

   fed-dans – measurement of land.

All Rights Reserved @ 2007 

Oh Cairo of the sepia light

empurple in the late of night,

the sparkling rays on marble stones

the quickest steps and gleaming domes.

The narrow streets and alleyways

the different smells the different ways

the hookah pipes, the mint tea trays,

Oh Cairo and your faded ways.

The empyrean of mosaic mosques

The many souks and little shops

the hot and dusty lives we lived

the little child with flower to give.

Street cafe’s where everyday

we sat and watched,

in wondrous gaze

Oh Cairo, I remember all those days

The perfume shop where we paid

to smell like ‘Chloe’ in a way!

the special time with special friends,

we thought that is would never end.

Halcyon days spent with you

enticing splendour of garnet hue

twinkling stars in darkest night

Oh Cairo of the sepia light.

The dark robed men

with beads and dice,

delicious honey with special spice,

the bright and silky lengths of cloth,

tahina, lentils in a a pot .

Can you recall that magic place?

for I can see your handsome face

Oh Cairo of the sepia light.

All Rights Reserved @ 2007

Recently I started to cycle again. It is I might say a long time since I first learnt to ride and more than forty-five years since I last sat on a bike.   My sister Jenny suggested that it might be a great way of getting some much needed exercise and  a good way of exploring at close quarters, the lanes and fields that surround our homes.  Oh! such fun and great excitement and with a pounding heart as I tucked my jeans into the bicycle clips so kindly lent by a friend we passed in the village, how kind as he took off  his own clips to give to me “can’t have you getting caught in the chain on your first day dear”  So off  I ventured to  this new delight in my sixty- first year!

The first day was a real success and  returning home all in one piece I  longed to cycle again. Now having been cycling for a few weeks the delights of this pursuit are astounding, to ride on a sunny day along the lanes and see the newly harvested fields of corn and wheat instead of whizzing by in my car.  To smell the grass and earth, to see the different leaves and colours of our beautiful land.  To look at closely again, the berry filled hedges, the different views as we stopped to admire this wonderful countryside, stretching our eyes as far as we can to see across these patchwork fields of green, browns and gold. To see the little cottages nestling in their valleys and the church steeples in the distance. To pass by the huge rusty red cows and to see the geese  marching past.  To breathe the wondrous air and feel the wind on your face and hair as you freewheel down the hills after the long slog up, is quite perfect. My sister and I wave to our  friends as we pass them by and explore lanes as we have never seen them before. This pursuit  has taken me back to my childhood and yes -I know what your thinking! -  I have fallen off once, luckily on the edge of a field so the landing was soft and no damage done.

Everyday my confidence has grown, so now I feel proficient  to ride without my first fear. What a lovely pastime to start again after all these years! how exhilarating  this feeling of  freedom and how I rejoice in it all, thank you for suggesting it dear Jenny, how I love this new adventure.  

Francesco da Mosto  ends his fabulous series tonight  as he visits to pay his respects at the war cemeteries of Gallipoli.  We also see Turkey’s largest Mosque. Then finally Mosto reaches Istanbul, city founded as the centrepiece of the former Ottoman Empire having completed his voyage. I shall feel a little sad as we leave the beautiful schooner the Black Swan and even sadder to end this wonderful enchanting series. A series that has shown us such special Mediterranean places. Please  ‘Auntie Beeb’ can we have some more, or even some re-runs of his first series.

You can buy a copy in hardback of “Francesco’s Mediterranean Voyage” from www.amazon.co.uk  released 18th August, I managed to get a brand new copy for £10  by scrolling down through new and used. It is beautifully illustrated throughout and a must for fans of Francesco everywhere.