The Stairway

Trieste

Marilyn at 79

To Compute Form

Aboriginal Dreamtime

Locomotive

Iris of the Pink Complexion

Just Like a Horse

A Walk on the Wild Side

Violets Blowing in the Wind

Deer in Mountain Stream

Kings Bearing Gifts

A Ferret Playing In the Woods

The Linnet's Wings House Art

The Woodsman at Work

The Linnet's Wings House Art

The Corncrake

The Linnet's Wings House Art

Corncrakes are part of the rail family. They are related to moorhens, coots and rails but differ from most members of the family in that they live on dry land. Corncrakes are surprisingly small; they are only a little bigger than a blackbird. This Schedule 1 species is very secretive, spending most of its time hidden in tall vegetation, its presence only betrayed by its rasping call.

In flight, their bright chestnut wings and trailing legs are unmistakable. They are summer visitors and migrate to Africa for the winter.

Lear's Owl and Pussy-Cat

The Linnet's Wings House Art

The Owl and the Pussy-Cat
By Edward Lear

I

The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea-green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five-pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
"O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
You are,
You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!"

II
Pussy said to the Owl, "You elegant fowl!
How charmingly sweet you sing!
O let us be married! too long we have tarried:
But what shall we do for a ring?"
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the Bong-Tree grows
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose,
His nose,
His nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.

III
"Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?" Said the Piggy, "I will."
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.

The Wind

Half Bitten Apple

Artist, Cathy Giles

It was a counter-intuitive drive that mined the collective aura by syphoning off copies of all good thoughts with the purpose of using them to furnish the land with valuable jeweled seams of shimmering pearl and diamond light that glowed from within.

The grid was the measuring rule for the king who oversaw the area. It fell from the sky on a silver chord that was positioned over 100 arable acres; meadows of gold bordered by lively ditches undulated under the invisible mist like presence.

The 'TC’ were the tribe and each member was responsible for the care of a square inch of land. Their primary description was to refill the weather verse, to maintain a balance.

And COP27 was where it was at ...where the cats met.

Achill Island

2007, The Linnet's Wings House Art

Blackbird in Flight by Carole Mannheim

Blackbird in Flight, Photoart from our 'Blackbird Dock' Issue

Dear Citizen,
Love is a proposition when if A is true and B is true then C flows true too …

love suffuses, melts, rushes, cares, protects, defends, makes warm memories, composes avas, cooks, mends, works, shops, budgets, wakes days, blesses nights, worries lack, understands.

Love is blue skies tumbling through grey cloud, a sun kiss spelling comfort, a dove’s deep cooing.

Love is a gentle day, breaking, heat rising off a favourite street, afternoon tea in front of a cosy fire, a good book, the light in a child’s eye, a grandparent’s worry, mum and dad, the helping hand from a neighbour

Love is a verb, a creative noun, an adverb and adjective. Love is a painting, a drawing, a sketch, it’s watercolour and oil, mixed. Love is endeavour

Love is good, best and better than all of us put together.

Love never grows old,
Love is faithful,
Love never dies.

Mari, '22

Sunset on the Mind

The Linnet's Wings House Art

String of Pearls

The Linnet's Wings House Art (01/11/2022)

Before the word 'but' everything is two dimensional; nothing is realized in perspective, in form. 'But' is the porter that comes knocking on the name hammered into the gate that opens onto the path that opens-out the way to fate. Before but there's only me, you, him, her, all alone. Pretending. 'But' is the little difference when one starts to play in a world that is set on its way.