The Mind Cupboard

 Dear reader,

The concept of childhood has evolved significantly throughout history.   Initially children were viewed as small adults with little distinction between children and adulthood.   However, over time, societal views have shifted recognizing childhood as a distinct and important phase in life with unique needs and vulnerabilities.  This evolution is marked by changes in child labor laws, education systems, and societal attitudes towards children.

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My own childhood was very disturbing.  I was sent to boarding school from the age of seven and continued to go to boarding schools until I was fifteen. I never fitted into school life, was a loner, and had a thoroughly unhappy childhood.   

                                                                                  *

From Gilbert White  July 17th  1783  in Hampshire

'The jasmine is so sweet that I am obliged to quit my chamber.'

From S.T. Coleridge  July 19th  1803  in Cumberland

'Intensely hot day - left off a a waistcoat, and for yarn word silk stockings.'

From Francis Kilvert    July 22nd  1873  in Wiltshire

'Today the heat was excessive and as I sat reading under the lime, I pitied the poor haymakers toiling in the burning Common where it seemed to be raining fire.'

                                                                               *

The Mind Cupboard

 

 

 

My mind cupboard overflows

with unwanted debris.

It needs a spring clean.

 

I will brush away the cobwebs

of cheerless thoughts.

Scrub out the stains of childhood.

 

I will replace the brass hooks

corroded with salt tears,

empty all the screams

hoarded through the years.

 

I will replace the accumulated ashes

from the worn shelf-paper,

with virgin tissue.

 

I will chase and catch the wasps,

relieve them of their stings.

I will refill this cupboard

with love, and learnt, brighter things.

 

                                                                                 *

 

With best wishes, Patricia

 

 

 

No Whispered Warning

 Dear reader,

The Aberfan disaster was a tragic colliery spoil tip collapse that occurred on October 21, 1966, in the Welsh village of Aberfan.  A large mass of coal waste, destabilized by heavy rain, slid down a mountainside and engulfed Pantylas Junior School and several houses, killing 116 children and 28 adults.

The disaster devastated the close-knit community, claiming lives of a generation of children and causing immense grief and trauma. Despite the best efforts of rescuers, including villagers, miners and emergency services the rescue operation was hampered by the sheer volume of debris and the  unstable conditions.

TheAberfan disaster was one of the worst mining-related disasters in British history, and its impact was felt across the nation and internationally. The disaster led to significant changes in safety regulations for mining operations and spoil tip management, and it highlighted the importance of community involvement in decisions that affect their lives.

Many survivors and community members continue to grapple with psychological scars of the disaster and the memory of Aberfan serves as a reminder of the human cost of industrial accidents.

                                                                               *

I remember hearing about Aberfan disaster on the news and crying in disbelief.

                                                                                *

 

 

From Dorothy Wordsworth  July 5th 1802 in Westmorland

'A very sweet morning.   William stayed some time in the orchard.....It came on a heavy rain, and we could not go to Dove Nest as we had intended ....The roses in the garden are fretted and battered and quite spoiled, the honey suckle, though in its glory, is sadly teazed.   The peas are beaten down.  The scarlet beans want sticking.  The garden is overrun with weeds.'

From John Ruskin   July 12th 1847 in Warwickshire

'Much struck......in coming from London by the lovely green of everything; certainly England gains more by summer or rather loses more in winter than any country I have seen in both seasons.'

                                                                                    *

 

 

 

No whispered warning

 

 

Catlin skips to school,

October leaves, red and yellow

fall across her path,

but do not whisper

warnings in her ear.

 

At breaktime Morwena falls

playing tag, and the children laugh.

All at once, from the valley,

an ominous noise,

engulfs the happy playground sounds,

as the derelict monster slagheap

starts to slip, slowly at first,

then gathering speed,

faster, faster, faster.

 

The blue sky blackens,

the mountain of dross,

cinders and mud,

rolls and trembles and shifts

as the angry giant roars,

burying the village school

under countless tons of coal.

 

 

Dust hangs in the air,

and silence, and more silence

then screams, and more screams,

tears and disbelief;

and the leaves, red and yellow,

still papering the ground.

 

 

 

 

With very best wishes, Patricia                                                                                 

 

 

 

Rooks

Dear Reader

The concept of "teenager" as a distinct life stage emerged in the mid-20th century, particularly in the United States due to a confluence of social, economic, and educational factors. Before this period young people were often viewed as either children or young adults, with less emphasis on a separate  teenager identity.

In many pre-industrial societies young people transitioned to adulthood relatively early often entering the workforce or getting married in their mid-teens.  Childhood and adulthood were seen as more distinct with less of a recognised intermediate stage.

The early 20th century saw the rise of compulsory education and the extension of schooling for long periods.  This kept young people in school longer, delaying their entry into the workforce and creating a distinct period of adolescence.

The concept of the teenager particularly in the US, has had a global  impact, influencing youth culture and the perception of adolescence in many other countries.

                                                                                       *

From William Cowper  June 25th  1785   Buckinghamshire

'I write in a nook that I call my Boudoir.   It is a summer house not much bigger than a sedan chiar, the door of which opens into the garden, that is now crowded with pinks, roses, and honeysuckles, and the window into my neighbour's orchard.....Having lined it with garden mats, and furnished it with a table and two chairs, here I write all that I write in summer-time, whether to my friends or to the public.'

From Samuel Pepys  June 28th  1664 in London

'Put on half a shirt this summer, it being very hot, and yet so ill-tempered am I grown, that I am afraid I shall catch cold, while all the world is ready to melt away.'

                                                                                              *

 

 

Rooks

 

I was fourteen,

when I first heard

the call of the rooks

caw-cawing

their eerie cries.

 

From a Cornish cottage garden

I walked down through

dark woods to the beach,

a remote place,

just dunes, sand, the sea

and me, a confused, angry teenager,

with the rooks caw-cawing in my ears

disturbing my thoughts.

 

Even now, in later years,

whenever I hear whispers from the wind,

or sea lapping over large grey stones

ever forward, ever backward,

glimpse a faraway horizon

and see twilight descending

darkening the sky,

the rooks in large black groups

flying high towards

their evening bed,

cawing, cawing, cawing,

my heart misses a beat

and an unexplained sadness

overcomes me.

                                                                              *

My new collection of poetry is now published under the title : Betrayal.  You can get a copy from Amazon.  Just put in:   Patricia Huth Ellis  and click .....                                                                               

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With very best wishes, Patricia

PS   Many thanks to all Brazilian people who got in touch this week.  Much appreciated.

                      

                                                                                     

I Call to You

                                                                         The North Star
 

 

Dear reader,

The North Star is revered for its unchanging position in the night sky.  It has guided sailors, explorers and dreamers for centuries.  Beyond its astronomical role, the North Star has deep cultural, spiritual and personal significance.  It symbolizes guidance, hope and constancy.

In Norse tales, Polaris was the end of a spike around which the sky rotates.  In Mongolian mythology it is a peg that holds the world together.

If you are in the Northern Hemisphere it can help you orient yourself and find your way as it is located in the direction of true north. In the biblical sense the Star of Bethlehem or the Christian Star appears in the nativity story of the Gospel of Matthew where the three wise kings from the East are inspired by the North Star to travel to Jerusalem.  The star leads them to the Baby Jesus where they worship Him and give Him gifts.

In the context of life the "North Star" metaphorically represents a guiding principle, a deep sense of purpose, or a core value that provides direction and motivation.  It is a personal beacon that help individuals navigate life's journey, make decisions and pursue goals with clarity and conviction, especially during challenging times.

                                                                                *

From Dorothy Wordsworth  June 21st  1802 in Westmorland

'We lay upon the sloping turf.  Earth and sky were so lovely that they melted our very hearts.   The sky to the north was of a chastened yet rich yellow, fading into pale blue and streaked and scattered over with steady islands of purple, melting away into shades of pink.   It made my heart almost feel like a vision to me.'

From William Cowper   June 23rd   1788 in Buckinghamshire

'The meadows have been parched to a January brown, and we have foddered our cattle for some time, as in winter.'

                                                                              *

I Call to You

I am the winter snow

the summer sun

I am the birdsong

the first snowdrop

I am the seagull's cry

the gold red sunset

I am the butterfly, the ladybird

the falling leaves

I am the blue mountains

the oak tree

I am whispering trees

the silver stream

I am the Southerly wind

the Northern Star

I am the sound of the sea

the gentle rain

I am the light, peace

love and sisterly soul

 

 

I call to you

 

                                                                              *

With very best wishes, Patricia

Journeys

The Silk Road

 Dear Reader, 

The Silk Road was a network of trade routes that connected East and West, primarily from the Han Dynasty in China to the 15th century, facilitating economic, cultural and political exchange.  

The routes were not a single road but a complex web of land and sea routes, the term "Silk Road" was coined in the 19th century.

The Silk Road traded in goods like silk, spices and other luxury items, as well as the exchange of ideas, religions and even diseases.  Buddhism spread westward along the routes.  The Silk Road was the longest ancient overland trade route and its total length was about 9000 kilometers.

Marco Polo is arguably the most famous western traveler to have journeyed on the Silk Road.  As a young merchant, he began his journey to China in 1271 and his travels lasted for 24 years.

During the centuries the Silk Road existed, bandits were an ever present threat that merchants had to worry about.  Bandits could attack and rob a caravan at any time during the long journey from China to Europe, spelling disaster for the merchants.

                                                                                 *

 From S.T. Coleridge   June 18th  1801 in Westmorland

'A hollow place in the rock like a coffin - a sycamore bush at the head, enough to give a shadow for my face, and just at the foot one tall foxglove - exactly my own length - there I lay and slept.  It was quite soft."

From James Woodforde   June 19th   1799 in Norfolk

'Very cold indeed again today, so cold that Mrs. Custance came walking in her spencer with a bosom-friend.'

Mrs. Custance, a a lady of fashion , would have worn her gowns low cut, in the bosomy manner so often drawn by Rowlandson: in cold weather she would have needed the fashionable item of clothing known as the 'bosom-friend'.

 

                                                                       *

 

Journeys

 

Young,
we fly to distant places,
walk the Silk Road,
swim in the Nile,
climb Kilimanjaro,
sail the great seas,
picnic in the desert
under the stars.

 

Middle aged, with children,
we travel to Europe,
walk in the hills,
ski, surf board, visit museums,
exclaim at the Eiffel Tower,
swim in rivers,
raid the High Streets.

Grandparents, and old now,

we travel all over the world,
enjoy lions in Africa,
natives dancing in Bali,
big white whales in vast oceans,
and explore National Parks

while drinking cups of tea,
preparing for the unknown

and longest journey.

  

                                                                                        *

With best wishes, Patricia
                     

The Man from Middlesbrough

The Cleveland Hills and a Shipyard

Dear Reader,

Shipyards have a long history with evidence of early dockyards dating back to the Indus Valley civilization around 24,00 BC.  From these ancient beginnings shipyards evolved with shipbuilding technology playing a crucial role in maritime trade, warfare and exploration.  

The history of shipyards is also intertwined with the development of various shipbuilding materials including wood, iron, and steel as well as technological advancements like the steam engine and the introduction of dry docks.

Despite its ups and downs Sunderland had long been hailed as the largest shipbuilding town in the world.

The shipbuilding industry experienced a significant boom during World War 11 due to the increased demand for both naval and merchant ships, which were crucial for both the war effort and maintaining supply lines.   The demand spurred the mobilization of resources, including labour and industrial capacity leading to a rapid expansion of the industry.

While the industry has now declined, particularly in commercial shipbuilding, there are still active shipyards, including those involved in ship repairs and some new building projects.

                                                                             *

From Francis Kilvert    June 7th  1874 in Wiltshire

'Another glorious day of sunshine and unclouded blue.  But every day the drought grows drier and the predicted water famine is stealing upon us.  Every day the pasture grows whiter and more bare and slippery.....Later the warm soft night was laden with perfume and the sweet scent of the syringa.'

From Dorothy Wordsworth   June 9th  1802 in Westmorland

'A soaking all day rain.....The hawthorns on the mountains sides like orchards in blossom.'

                                                                                *

The Man from Middlesbrough

 

 

ordered another cup of tea,

lit another cigarette.

 

He held his head

in his history-stained hands,

nicotine fingers clutching

tufts of dirty grey hair.

He stared, not-seeing, at

the plastic tablecloth,

his mind numb.

 

His father, his grandfather,

worked in this shipyard

watched ships lovingly grow

from steel plates to proud traders,

built to sail from the Tees estuary,

into the North Sea

and the world’s great oceans.

 

In his head the man heard the noise,

music to him, of drag chains,

when a ship pushed along

the greasy slipway, slid into the sea.

And the man thought of his mates,

of shared experiences from school days,

first girlfriends, first kisses,

walks in the Cleveland hills.

And he thought of the old canteen,

warm with steam from the tea urn,

from brotherhood.

 

The man wiped his eyes

with the back of his hand,

 

ordered another cup of tea,

lit another cigarette.

 

                                                                                       *

With very best wishes, Patricia

My new collection of poetry has now been published.  You can obtain a copy from Amazon.  Put the name:   Patrica Huth Ellis into Amazon and click and you will get there.

 

 

Camel

Saddlebags

 

Dear Reader

Nomadic saddlebags or Khorjins and heybes, have a rich history as essential tools for Nomadic tribes in the Middle East and Central Asia.

These double saddlebags were woven to carry a variety of goods, from personal belongings to supplies for the family's journey.  The bags were often woven by women on small portable looms, using materials like wool and goat's hair.  Various weaving techniques were employed including hand-knotted pile. plain weave (kilim) and soumac.  

Saddlebags were not just practical tools but also expressions of tribal identity and artistic skill, reflecting centuries-old weaving traditions.   The bags came in various sizes and styles, ranging from small pouches to larger handbags and saddlebags.  

Saddlebags were a common accessory used on horses in the 1800s particularly in rural and frontier areas. They were typically made of leather or canvas and designed to be hung over the horse's saddle to provide extra storage space for supplies and equipment.

                                                                                  *

From Thomas Hardy  June 2nd  1865 in London

'Walked about by moonlight in the evening.  Wondered what woman, if any, I should be thinking about in five years' time.'

 

 

From Gilbert White   June 5th   1782 in Hampshire

'My brother Thomas White nailed up several large scallop shells under the eaves of his house at South Lambert, to see if the house-martins would build in them.  These conveniences had not been fixed up half an hour before several pairs settled upon them; expressing great complacency, began to build immediately.'

                                                                                   *

Camel

 

The woman stares at me

into my rheumy eyes, my sad face

sees a dusty, dirty animal

mud sticking to my coat

my miserable tail hanging loose

my hooves cracked, hump matted.

 

 

But I want her to know

that this is not me.

I came from a land of warmth

of sun, of sand,

my Arab owner loved me

understood me

he spoke to me softly

he stoked my coat.

He rode on my back

Kelim rugs hugging my haunches

water in large panniers

strung to my side.

We rode to oases, to Petra Rose,

he was my friend

I weep for the want of him.

 

The woman walks away

but something glistens on her cheek.

 

                                                                              *

 

My book of poetry BETRAYAL has been published on Amazon.  If you would like a copy  just put:

Patricia Huth Ellis  into Amazon and there it will be.  It is to be my last book since the muse seems to have left me.

 

My partner Prof Alan Harrison is working on a large A I website at  https://www.alanfharrisonandai.com/

I know less than nothing about AI and found it very interesting; you might too.

                                                                              *

With very best wishes, as always, Patricia 

Of Different Stuff

Spitfires

Dear Reader, 

The Supermarine Spitfire is a legendary British fighter aircraft, particularly renowned for its role in the Battle of Britain during WWII.   It was known for its peed, agility and powerful weaponry, becoming a symbol of Allied resilience.  Over 20,000 Spitfires were produced, undergoing significant design changes and improvements throughout the war.

The iconic Supermarine Spitfire was critical in defending Luftwaffe air attacks during the Battle of Britain.

The Spitfire, also commonly referred to as the Supermarine Spitfire, in undoubtedly one of the most iconic and beloved aircraft in the history of aviation.  It was the only Allied fighter to be in production for the duration of WWII. During the war Spitfires flew 835,00 sorties.  They were also capable of carrying two 250lb bombs, one on each wing or one 500lb bomb under the fuselage.

Brad Pitt is an accomplished pilot and, in addition to having mastered the more common and garden aircraft, he owns a World War II-era Supermarine Spitfire.

 

                                                                                  *

From D.H.Lawrence  May 24th  1916 in Cornwall

'The country is simply wonderful, blue, graceful little companies of bluebells everywhere on the moors, the gorse in flame, and on the cliffs and by the sea, a host of primrose, like settling butterflies, and seapinks like a hover of pink bees near the water.  There is a Spanish ship run on the rocks just below - great excitement everywhere.'

From Francis Kilvert   May 27th   1874  in Wiltshire

'.......banks and hedges brilliant with pink campion....As I came home the western heavens were jewelled with pure bright sparkling lights of grey silver and pale gold, and overhead a sublime mackerel sky of white and blue in its distant fleecy beauty gave me a more intense and grand sense of infinity and the illimitable than I ever remember to have had before.'

                                                                              *

Of Different Stuff

 

 

The ATS, the WAAFS, the WRENS,

rode in battleships,

flew spitfires and mosquitoes,

decoded enemy messages

nursed the wounded.

 

They tilled the land

drove tractors, fed the pigs,

birthed the lambs,

rose with the dawn,

went to bed late

exhausted and often hungry.

 

They walked alone in London

late at night

in the dark and dangerous streets,

they slept in freezing dormitories

shared a lavatory and basin

with twenty others.

 

These women were made

of different stuff.

They were fearless,

 they were brave.

 

                                          *

 

I am ashamed at my fearfulness

in the peace they fought for us,

gave us.

I am made, sadly, of different stuff.

 

                                                                          *

A new volume of my poetry 'Betrayal' has just been published.  If you would like a copy it is on Amazon under the name: Patricia Huth Ellis.   Click on that name and it will come up.  Some of the poems you will have already seen but there are lots of new ones.  It is my final book as the muse seems to have left me now, in old age.

                                                                          *

With very best wishes, Patricia

A Curse

                                                                       Medieval jewellery
 

 

Dear reader,

I have never understood how people can violate sacred graves and dig up bones that were put there to rest for ever by loving relatives.

It seems sacrilege.   I think Shakespeare would agree with me as he wrote on his memorial stone:

                                    'Good friends for Jesus sake forbear
                                     To dig the dust enclosed here
                                     Blessed be the man that spares these stones
                                     And cursed be he that moves my bones.'

I think it should be a very private resting place and the bones left alone in peace.  Why do we need to know what was in the coffin?  I would say it was no-one else's business, not even the scientists and archeologists who apparently need to know for some best good reason known to themselves. 

This seems to be the age of knowing everything.  But some secret things are best left secret and I would like to think that when my bones are left to rest, with my bear Aristotle by my side, I will hear the wind and the rain in tranquillity and quiet for a thousand years.  My bones left in peace.

                                                                                   *

From Dorothy Wordsworth  May 20th  1800 in Westmorland

'A fine mild rain.  After breakfast the sky cleared and before the clouds passed from the hills I went to Ambleside.  It was a sweet morning.  Everything green and overflowing with life, and the streams making a perpetual song, with the thrushes and all little birds, not forgetting the stonechats.'

From Gerard Manley Hopkins  May 21st 1874 in Surrey

'A mockery of bright sunshine day after day, no rain..... wind always holding from the north, dim blue skies, faint clouds, ashy frosts in the mornings:  saw young icy leaves along the sunk fence bitten and blackened.'

                                                                     *

A Curse

 

 

on those who plunder the earth,

and violate sacred places......

 

A curse on those who disturb

and steal gently-bandaged skulls,

legs, arms, and finger-bones,

jewels: perhaps a pearl bracelet,

a coral ring, hair pins, or a mosiac plate,

set out lovingly with food

for the long journey home.

Who have lain there, at peace,

for many thousand years,

the sand, the desert winds, the rains,

nature’s bed.

 

 

A curse on those whose

laughter and excitement

fills the air, stealing these remains,

transporting them to people

in white coats,

who dissect their dignity,

stick labels on them,

give them to museums

to enlighten an ice-cream licking public.

 

                                                                       *

 

I have a new collection of my poetry out on Amazon.  Should you wish to purchase a copy you can do so here.  There are some new poems and some that you might have seen before.  It is my last collection before I leave this mortal coil and I do hope you will enjoy, at least, some of them.

                                                                       *

With very best wishes, Patricia