There are some really wonderful looking properties in The UK.
This one here was once a 'Post Office' it has wonderful qualities of charm about its presence on the planet.
I sometimes wonder how we arrived at so many of the amazing architectural outstanding buildings throughout the world in general but in The UK specifically.
I happen to think a civilised meal of two veg, boiled and roast potatoes, slices of meat or a chop for instance with a tasty gravy especially say all there is to regarding perfection in food requirements and presentation.
Yes, I can eat anything and enjoy most, but there is nothing in my culinary senses to compare with a roast dinner;- British style.
It took thousands of years to reach such perfection.
We have specific if not unusual modes as well:-
Enchantment.
Temperance
The Gods
The Devils
The Seasons
The Sun
The Moon
The Planets in general.
Black or White
Superstition.
The importance of Castor and Pollux.
If anything is important at all of course.
I thought this house was really exceptional. There is something special about a Cottage like this in Britain, it pours out a feeling of warmth, security and indeed love.
The enormous Bull he shows so much natural strength and beauty.
I once wrote a poem about a Bull.
It was a beautiful day when I was born,
On a sunny and warm December morn,
The grass it was so green, so low,
The land was lush in Mexico;
The kind man held me in his arms,
Giving me confidence with all his charms,
He plays with me now I can walk,
Making me happy with his talk;
Water and food were both abundant,
To all I received, I became respondent,
Each day they fed me much, much more,
Then mentioned names they claimed I would gore;
With each day that passed I became stronger,
Sunshine and warmth became much longer,
Then the games began each day,
Chase them around with cloaks of grey,
Each one flapping as if in a breeze,
Were to me a simple tease;
Oh what joy I had in running,
Watch them jump when I was coming,
Running around in and out,
Listen them laugh, listen them shout;
So much more there was to learn,
How to twist at every turn,
Knock them down, I'm sorry friend,
Please don't stop this daily trend;
So much I look forward to,
Then a reward, I get from you,
A tasty morsel, squeeze me tight,
I would lick you, if I might;
Days are full of so much pleasure,
Chase the capes, I'm getting better,
So much pleasure they give me,
Applauding my virility;
Strong am I, and gentle too,
Never would this bull harm you,
So you roar and shout 'Ole'
You really like to watch me play;
One day I climb a timber ramp
Straw is dirty, straw is damp,
Shaking down a dusty road,
I feel this is an overload;
Crowds of people moving too,
Are we heading for the zoo,
Insecure and contemplating,
This journey's long, and what is waiting?
Into strange ground I'm released,
Strangers hold me with a leash,
Yet why do they pull at me so,
Humans are kind, this I know;
Down a tunnel I must go,
Ouch! that was a painful blow,
Blood is seeping out of me,
A dagger in my side I see;
I come up to a wooden door,
It opens, I run out, to score?
Capes I see to play with me,
Men around to tease me, see ;
Sandy ground and cheers Ole
There are thousands here to watch me play,
Six of them wave capes at me,
I will chase them, you will see;
One I catch, excitedly,
I did not mean to hurt him though,
I will stand still,
Then he can go;
The others run and taunt me still,
Waving capes, oh what a thrill,
Chase them around this sandy circle,
Having fun, creating cheers,
They are drinking cokes and beers;
Then, a monster comes to view,
Shall I chase him, he's something new?
Heavy garments guard his sides,
I must take some stronger strides;
Something pierces me so deep,
The pain inside, it makes me weep,
I can't take this I must attack,
Blood is gushing from my back;
Deeper still he drives his spear,
But my men friends, are drawing near,
I will pull away from him,
Play with those who shout Ole;
They all want to play with me,
Oh the pain, the pouring blood
I'll be alright,
Men are good;
Three of them walk up to me,
To ease the pain, I know they are kind,
Then more pain, deep in my side
Thrusting shafts of steel in me,
Men I trusted, can this be?
Two more men, they come at leisure,
Inflicting pain, is this their pleasure,
Oh! what have I done to them,
To displease them, once again,
Such fun we had in fields of green,
This sandy circle is obscene?
Once again, the capes they flutter,
Alright, I'll chase them, just as before,
Perhaps a treat,
Will be in store;
But stop the pain I try to say,
My whole life blood is ebbing away,
Pumping out from back and shoulder,
Is the pain to make me bolder?
Enough of this, I need to rest,
But they still cheer, I'll do my best,
Warn them off, I don't want to play,
By the way it is Sunday,
Christians they are, all of them,
Do they love their fellow men?
Crosses dangle from their necks,
And prayers they say to their creator,
For him to make them come out greater,
So much pleasure, they derive,
Don't they understand, I am alive?
I'm weaker now, I'm cold and tired,
They still wave capes, just like a child,
I'll try some more, but I just stand still,
The crowd are screaming, kill, kill, kill;
A broad sword is thrust into me,
Oh this pain, why should it be?
Men I trusted with my life,
They knew to them I meant no harm,
I would not hurt,
Their leg or arm;
As I fall, they watch me shudder,
Don't they know, I loved no other;
All my life I trusted you,
And in a few minutes, fifteen or twenty,
You made my life seem oh so empty,
You puzzled me and hurt me so,
Are you content, I don't think so?
I hope you liked the poem. Your comments would be appreciated, either for or against.