Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 349 & Part 350

Today is Sunday, the 30th of March 2025.

Some vampire bit my neck, one of the penguins complained.

Must have been one of the bats, speculated one of the snails.

What are S - nails?, one of the many chicks wanted to know.

I think one of the mosquitos bit the penguin's neck, one of the fourteen caterpillars added to the feeling of riring nonsense.

And a group of thirty crickets played their fiddles without fiddling about.

And so thirty crickets joined the twenty-two mosquitos, the fourteen caterpillars, the six snails, the twenty six butterflies, the eighteen bats, the ten more chicks, the two chicks, the twenty-five chicks, the seventeen penguins, the nine little red birds and the one little tawny owl…

🦗 🦗🦗   🦗🦗 🦗   🦗🦗 🦗              🦗🦗🦗  🦗             🦗🦗     🦗   🦗    🦗 🦗🦗🦗    🦗     🦗    🦗🦗🦗               🎻  🦗🦗🦗    🦗

"Bromford in June"

Bromford in June
A shade veranda
Under Sunday blue sky
Bromford in June
And cousin Miranda
Is making a blueberry pie


I can hear the clock inside, a-ticking and a-tocking
Everything is peacefully dandy
I can can see your granny 'cross the street still a rocking
Watching all the neighbours go by, oh

Bromford in June
Sweet oleander
Blowing perfume in the air
Up jumps the moon
To make it so much grander
It's paradise honey
Brother, take my advice
Nothing's half as nice as Bromford in June

"Bromford (Angel)"

Bromford Angel,
Bromford Angel,
Will you be mine?
My darling dear,
Love you all the time.
I′m just a fool,
A fool in love with you.

Bromford Angel,
Bromford Angel,
The one I adore,
Love you forever
And evermore.
I'm just a fool,
A fool in love with you.


I fell for you
And I knew
The vision of your love, loveliness.
I hope and I pray
That someday
I′ll be the vision of your hap, happiness.

Oh, Bromford Angel,
Bromford Angel,
Please be mine?
My darling dear,
Love you all the time.
I'm just a fool,
A fool in love with you.

I fell for you
And I knew
The vision of your loveliness.
I hope and pray
That someday
That I'll be the vision of your happiness.


Oh, Bromford Angel,
Bromford Angel,
Please be mine?
My darling dear,
Love you all the time.
I′m just a fool,
A fool in love with you

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 347 & Part 348

Today is Saturday, the 22nd of March 2025.

Winter is over, springtime is here, moaned one of the penguins, and we still cannot fly and don't know where to go.

Shhh, hoo-hooed the tawny owl, I have got a headache and I cannot hear my own thoughts.

That is not me, the penguin kept on complaining, that's those mosquitos deefening buzzing.

And so twenty-two mosquitos joined the fourteen caterpillars, the six snails, the twenty-six butterflies, the eighteen bats, the ten more chicks, the two chicks, the twenty-five chicks, the seventeen penguins, the nine little red birds and the one little tawny owl…

 

🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟🦟

"Over Bromford"

Am I the hawk? Am I the dove?
The vulture swooping down from above?
Am I the drone, circling high
Whirring tuneless, pie-eyed in the sky?

Angry gods of retribution
Driving hate without solution
City, home to all who came and ever will

Long lost tribes, invaders of old
Staking their claim to spiritual gold
Layers of antiquity buried below
Each with a sad tale to better not know

There is no time for meditation
Pause for thought or hesitation
Set in stone, firm pledges to fulfil
Angry gods of retribution
Driving hate without solution
City, home to all who came and ever will

Rocks upon rocks
Ashes on ashes
Bagels and lox
Warak dawali
Divisible loaves
Two fish from the Galilee
As friends sit and dine
Take water and wine

I walk the cobbled alleys nervously
Soldier girls, soldier boys stare at me
Down the line, out of time, switch alliance in my mind

I walk the cobbled alleys nervously
Soldier girls and soldier boys stare at me
Down the line, out of time, switch alliance in my mind

Am I the hawk? Am I the dove?
The vulture swooping down from above?
Am I the drone, circling high
Whirring tuneless, pie-eyed in the sky?

There is no time for meditation
Pause for thought or hesitation
Set in stone, firm pledges to fulfil
Angry gods of retribution
Driving hate without solution
City, home to all who came and ever will
But I never will

I'm not over Bromford
Bromford

"Bromford In Love"

Bromford in love
Writes 69 cantos
For melancholy brunettes and
Sad women

The breeze carries salt
And sipping milky broth
He cast his gaze towards the sea out
The Winnebago


As if the sea had bore her to be
An ideal woman
She came to him from the water like Venus
From a shell

Singing his name with all the sweetness
Of a mother
Leaving him breathless and then
Drowned

Bromford
Bromford
Bromford
Bromford

Bromford and German Shepherd / Bon Printemps, Bon Printemps …

 

There is a chill creeping up my spine.

I am feeling kind of exposed, like I am sitting with the back to an open door that leads to a dark dungeon made of long and winding cellar hallways.

I am feeling watched like someone was in the room with me, someone or something invisible I cannot see.

But that is the point with invisibility, that you cannot see invisible things and beings, isn't it? What about fear? Can you see fear? Can you picture or personalize it?

There is nothing to fear but fear itself . I have a bad feeling about this. A bad feeling about this fear?

»Wow, dude«, the llama is disturbing and interrupting my unsettling train of thoughts with a loud entrance into the living-room of our penthouse on the roof and above the fifteenth floor of the apartment building on 666 Whitaker Lane in Bromford, the friendly town by the bay and seaside. »Why are you posting again? And what is that Nazi dog doing in the hallway?«

I am shaking my head closing the laptop. Maybe the time for writing subtile sentences and stories about fear and creepy thrilling feelings has gone by, is yet to come or simply not now.

»That is a Germany Shepherd, animal«, I say, »not necessarily a Nazi dog. Dogs are men's best friends and oldest companions. Domestication of dogs dates back more than 14,000 years ago deep into the Stone Age of the human race.«

»That's history, dude«, the llama is lying down on a reproachfully squeaking couch after a running jump. »And when did you humans domesticate the glorious llama race to herd your sheep?«

»Let me think about it«, I say. »That was like… NEVER! That never happened. It's because of reliability or something like that, camelid.«

»OK, and why are you posting on a Thursday again, dude?«

I take in a deep breath.

»It's because I want to celebrate not only the phases of the moon, especially the full-moons, but all kinds of terrestrial cycles, like the four seasons for example.«

»Four Seasons?« The llama is kicking some cushions on the couch with two of its four leags. »Like the Four Seasons Hotels and Resorts,the luxury hotel chain?«

»I don't know how you know about hotels and resorts. And the answer is NO. I am talking about the four earthly seasons like spring, summer, autumn and winter. I want to wish you and all the readers a good springtime which starts today in the Northern hemisphere.

Bon printemps, bon printemps!«

»Whatever floats your boat, dude«, the llama says, »Or do you say, whatever floods your boat? And why are you writing about eerie things or invisible beings watching you? Doesn't that feeling fit better in the darker seasons like fall or winter?«

»Maybe I have watched to many dark and creepy television series lately«, I murmur.

»We are all in the night country now«, the llama says mysteriously. »But me as your bestest animal companion you have ever had and that knows you better than you sometimes know yourself I sense another reason why you are feeling watched from the darkness of the hallway.«

»Really?« I ask sceptically. »And what is your guess, animal?«

»You are afraid of the Shepherd dog in the hallyway«, the llama cannot hide a giggle in its voice. »And you don't know how to get past it or rid of it.«

»OK«, I say, »I give up. You got me. I thought a watchdog was a good idea. But good old Brownie out there will not stop barking and growling at me once I try to leave the living-room for the kitchen, the bath or the bedrooms. He just won't let me pass.«

»Well, well, well«, the llama has jumped up to all four legs. »I will go out and talk to him. But from now on you owe me.«

»That's exactly what I was also afraid of«, I whisper to myself opening the laptop again.

5️⃣5️⃣5️⃣5️⃣5️⃣
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5️⃣5️⃣5️⃣5️⃣5️⃣
5️⃣5️⃣5️⃣5️⃣5️⃣

Today, is Thursday, the 20th of March 2025.
Bon printemps, bon printemps…