To me you are the worlds best bear.....

Being confined to barracks with flu does have a few compensations. Wall to wall television, including 'Flog It.' Today's programme featured a pair of elderly teddy bears. One was of a very similar age and appearance to my own dearly loved bear - apparently the glass eyes were a good sign as were the felt soles on the feet. The difference, however, was that the bear up for auction was in tip top condition as his owner had not been allowed to play with him! What!? Who wants a bear in pristine condition? (Well someone did as he sold for over £1,000) But part of a bears' charm is surely found in his slightly threadbare appearance, a sure sign he has been dragged up through the years; sometimes cuddled to within an inch of his life, taken to play-group, dressed up and wheeled about, sometimes abandoned through teenage years, only to be picked up and cried upon during various break-ups etc. And a sure sign that he was always loved.

Here's a poem about my own best bear. (Who will never be sold)

                                      Bobby

My faithfull friend you look quite worn
You've been around since I was born.
Rough and tumble through the years
Has left you with some tatty ears.

Your beady eyes don't quite match,
Your tummy has a threadbare patch.
I'm afraid your growl sounds rather weak-
Really just a timid squeak.

I often think if you were willing
I'd treat you to some brand new filling.
I would stitch up all your gaping seams
And comb your hair until it gleams.
But what's a bit of wear and tear?
To me you are the worlds best bear.

(C) Lyn Halvorsen

Taken from 'Under the Same Stars.' 

A new collection of poems and illustrations.

Christmas Kitchen

Mum's got her apron on again
She's up to her elbows in flour,
The preparations are 'revving up'
With every passing hour.

The turkey has taken up residence
In the larder, behind the door,
On the sideboard there is evidence
Of treats that are in store.

We're enveloped in a spicy fog
From the steaming and the brewing
Of Christmas puddings, mulled wine
And cranberries gently brewing.

Potatoes and sprouts are trimmed and peeled,
Stuffings and sauces mixed,
Trifles and jellies are revealed,
The fairy lights are fixed!

There's carrots and some Christmas cake,
Some milk and a few mince pies
All set for Santa Claus to take
On his journey through the skies.

Sorry Nigella, Delia, Jamie too,
Raymond Blanc and all the rest,
Forget the fancy ballyhoo,
This kitchen is the best!

The Garden Fairies

I'm looking forward to my new book and woke up this morning thinking of the garden where Mary Kindly, one of the main characters tip toes out into the garden in the early hours of the morning. This is the time when the world is quiet, all is peaceful and there is time to think. Lost in her thoughts, Mary is gently awoken from her quiet reverie by the dawn chorus, maybe the sweetest alarm call of all.

Though they don't feature in this particular story, I wonder if  Mary would have noticed the garden fairies...

   When the night is drawing closer
   And the moon glows in the sky,
    The stars above are shining,
   Here, the garden fairies fly.

    With dresses made of rose petals
    And gossamer for their wings,
    They land upon the dewy grass
     And dance in fairy rings.

   Sprinkling magic fairy dust
  They dart amidst the flowers
   Tending all the garden plants
   Through the night time hours.

   And in the morning, all is well,
  The fairies' work is done,
    Sweet peas and daisies, all in rows
   Turn their faces to the sun.

A New Day and a New Book

I have to admit it. I have been a very lazy 'blogger.' However, I am back here again with renewed enthusiasm and intend to keep my posts more up to date. I do need your help though. I would like to share my blog with more readers and if you are kind enough to enjoy any of my posts I would love it if you could spread the word!
I have to confess to an ulterior motive though. I have been working on my first novel which is due to be published this month (July 2014). I first had the idea for 'Tea at Raphael's' some years ago. I wrote the first three chapters and then left them languishing in a drawer. Some will say that we cannot accomplish what we aim for until the time is right and I decided to start writing again during some testing times. I think Gabriel, the central character in my book was looking over me and encouraging me to complete his story, and I thank him for that!
   Here are a few words about my story.....
                                 
                   ... Mary Kindly unexpectedly becomes the proud caretaker of Raphael's Café after new friends encourage her to turn a deserted building on Dove Street into a unique teashop. When customers walk through the café doors, their lives are changed forever.

People from all walks of life are drawn to the calm atmosphere of Raphael's café, and the kindness of the new friends they meet there, but just who are Raphael and Gabriel, and their band of helpers, who seem to appear just when they are needed?...

Take yourself, just for a moment, to a place where kindness and nourishment go hand in hand and no one is turned away if they can't afford a cup of coffee. I'll meet you at Raphael's!

Bird School

Remembering a time when our dad watched us gazing up at the sky as a flock of birds swooped by and told us they were coming home from school.......

                                                          BIRD SCHOOL

It's absolutely true

That, just like you,

As a general rule

Birds go to school.

At half past three

When it's time for tea

Look to the sky

Where the clouds float by.

See the birds on the wing

As they soar and sing

For all in a flock

They looked at the clock

And twittered about

When school was out!

Now they're off to their nest

For a feathery rest

And a goodnight cheep

Before they sleep.

Need a bit of sunshine......

Everyday is a blessing whatever the weather, and as I look out on a rainsoaked garden this Monday lunchtime I think the trees have never looked more beautiful - here in Speen we are surrounded by them, being in an area of dense woodland. The branches covered in the deepest green leaves bow nearly to the ground, and form dark leafy  tunnels on the lanes around us which purify and freshen the air. It feels almost like a rain forest here....
However, I am ready for some sun, and the garden fairies....

                             When the night is drawing closer
                              And the moon is in the sky
                             The stars above are shining,
                              Here the garden fairies fly.

                              With dresses made of rose petals
                              And gossamer for their wings,
                              They land upon the dewy grass
                              And dance in fairy rings.

                             Sprinkling magin fairy dust
                             They dart amidst the flowers,
                              Tending all the garden plants,
                              Through the night time hours.

                             And in the morning, all is well
                             The fairies' work is done,
                              Sweet peas and daisies, all in rows,
                             Turn their faces to the sun.

The Same Old Sun up in the Sky

On my journey home from Southend last night I looked at the sun, hanging in the sky like a huge red ball. I remembered telling my grandson Jude in America to look up at the sky whenever he was missing us, and know that we would be looking at the same sun even though we were far apart. It's a comforting thought knowing we share the same sky. 'A thousand miles can't separate, Or loosen binds that tie, And I can summon up your face In the blinking of an eye'.