Another Glass Of Wine My Dear (April 5, 2007) — Image by kenne
Have Some Medeira, M’dear
She was young, she was pure, she was new, she was nice She was fair, she was sweet seventeen. He was old, he was vile, and no stranger to vice He was base, he was bad, he was mean. He had slyly inveigled her up to his flat To view his collection of stamps, And he said as he hastened to put out the cat, The wine, his cigar and the lamps: Have some madeira, m’dear. You really have nothing to fear. I’m not trying to tempt you, that wouldn’t be right, You shouldn’t drink spirits at this time of night. Have some madeira, m’dear. It’s really much nicer than beer. I don’t care for sherry, one cannot drink stout, And port is a wine I can well do without… It’s simply a case of chacun a son gout Have some madeira, m’dear. Unaware of the wiles of the snake-in-the-grass And the fate of the maiden who topes, She lowered her standards by raising her glass, Her courage, her eyes and his hopes. She sipped it, she drank it, she drained it, she did! He promptly refilled it again, And he said as he secretly carved one more notch On the butt of his gold-headed cane: Have some madeira, m’dear, I’ve got a small cask of it here. And once it’s been opened, you know it won’t keep. Do finish it up. It will help you to sleep. Have some madeira, m’dear. It’s really an excellent year. Now if it were gin, you’d be wrong to say yes The evil gin does would be hard to assess.. Besides it’s inclined to affect me prowess, Have some madeira, m’dear. Then there flashed through her mind what her mother had said With her antepenultimate breath, “Oh my child, should you look on the wine that is red Be prepared for a fate worse than death!” She let go her glass with a shrill little cry, Crash! Tinkle! it fell to the floor; When he asked, “What in Heaven?” She made no reply, Up her mind, and a dash for the door. Have some madeira, m’dear. Rang out down the hall loud and clear With a tremulous cry that was filled with despair, As she fought to take breath in the cool midnight air, Have some madeira, m’dear. The words seemed to ring in her ear. Until the next morning, she woke in her bed With a smile on her lips and an ache in her head… And a beard in her lug ‘ole that tickled and said: Have some madeira, m’dear!
Ocotillo (Fouquieria splendens) Blossom in Sabino Canyon — Image by kenne
Very little rain in Sabino Canyon hasn’t stopped the cycles of life from taking place. Most of the year, Ocotillos look like a bunch of gray sticks. But in the spring, are during the summer monsoon season, the sticks leaf out. However, the red flame blossoms only happen in the spring.
Ocotillo (Fouquieria splendens) Leaves — Image by kenne
Fouquieria splendens is a plant indigenous to the Sonoran Desert in the Southwestern United States and northern Mexico. While semi-succulent and a desert plant, Ocotillo is more closely related to tea and blueberries than cactuses. Source: Wikipedia
The beggar man and the mighty king are only diff’rent in name, For they are treated just the same by fate. Today a smile and tomorrow a tear, We’re never sure what’s in store, So learn your lesson before it is too late, so
Be like I, hold your head up high, Till you find a bluebird of happiness. You will find greater peace of mind Knowing there’s a bluebird of happiness. And when he sings to you, Though you’re deep in blue, You will see a ray of light creep through, And so remember this, life is no abyss, Somewhere there’s a bluebird of happiness.