My Mind

Personal website of M.G. Daniel. Sharing poetry, my writings, snippets from my life and whatever's on my mind.


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Lordy! Guess what I heard

In early June former FBI director James Comey’s use of  the word “Lordy” had that term trending on Twitter and lots of Lordy meme’s popping up on social media. At the time I was sure there was an old song from my girlhood with that word in the title; I had memories of singing “Oh Lordy” frequently, loudly and heartily whenever the song played on radio. Unfortunately, many Google and YouTube searches later, I could not find my “Oh Lordy” song. Until, a little brainwave made me use the only fragment of the lyrics I could remember as my search term — and what do you know, Volare had somehow become Oh Lordy to my young ears, an error that had gone uncorrected all these years.

There is a way we can leave all the shadows behind us.


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Hello sir

I think the ongoing courtroom saga of another (once?) elder statesman actor made My Mind drift – comparatively – to Sir Sidney Poitier and of course, with that came flashbacks to “To Sir With Love.”

If you wanted the moon
I would try to make a start
But I would rather you let me give my heart
To Sir, with love


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Music is music

Whether it’s religious or secular, good music is great for health of mind and soul. May is the month of Mary in the Christian church, especially for Catholics. Maybe that’s why I wanted to hear Schubert’s Ave Maria over and over today.

 

 


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For the love of poetry

Happy National Poetry Month to all my buddy blogger poets and lovers of poetry. Better late than never, when April is almost over. I thought a love poem would be most apt to express my good wishes to all who do the labour of love routine working those drafts to completion or perfection.

love note

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Sonnet 116, Shakespeare