‘Hello, Dolly!’

Once Loved – Always Loved

Your Favourite Second-Hand Sales Site

www.once-loved-always.loved.com Advertisement   FOR SALE   VINTAGE VENUS COUNTRY LADIES’ BIKE Advertiser: Ms N Ewe Stored in deep cellar, many years. Rusty, dusty, exceeding musty. When clean, beauteous sheen, silver, black; eye-watering gleam. Owned by one ageing poet manqué, now manky from excess hanky-panky. Poet not for sale. Bike, answers to name ‘Dolly’, needs much love, rub-a-dub-dub. Other bikes - dare to imitate – best flattery - priced £100.00-plus. My darlin’s worth can’t be placed. Hitch ride to – er - Hitchin, Herts, meet world’s greatest baker, queen of tarts. (Log in with your Once Loved password for more details)

Author’s Note: This piece first appeared as Goodbye, Dolly in The A3 Review, Issue 2, published by Writing Maps.com,  a literary magazine that folds out like a map. Further details from: http://writingmaps.com/collections/writing-maps-courses/products/the-a3-review-issue-2)

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Natalie Wood

(© Natalie Irene Wood 20 March 2015)

‘The Hourglass’

‘A time to mourn” - Ecclesiastes 3:4

Crazier than cracked paving,

we’ve punched the unforgiving

wall; tried to beat the clock, drilled the hourglass to spin balletic twirls,

watching, weighing, one-by-one,

the unceasing flow of sand grains

that will rub us raw until we meet again. 

We promised that we’d never

leave you. But we’ve had to

let you go. Now we’ll each clasp

you singly, leave a lingering,

heartsick kiss; a warming gift

to ease the lonely journey to

your eternal home.

 

Darling, beloved daughter,

our life - enormous soul –

how hard for us to comprehend

that your fleeting time on

earth has gone.

 

Once – a thousand times! –

you’d shrug off sleep –

romp, wriggle, excite those

near you in your rush for life;

to honour, cherish, Heaven’s name.

 

Here you’re at eternal rest;

in a place where none else may lie,

where great men ponder what

tribute more they may offer to

a mite aged four, who’d

barely learnt to laugh before

been taught to die.

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Author’s Note:  Adele Biton, a four-year-old Israeli, died of pneumonia on Tuesday 17 February 2015, two years after she sustained critical head wounds when the car in which she was travelling on Route 5 in Samaria was attacked by rock-throwing Palestinians. She is survived by her parents, three sisters and an infant brother, who was born a few months before her passing. The poem above is based on the eulogies at her funeral.

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Natalie Wood

(© Natalie Irene Wood – 19 February 2015)

‘Wonderful Copenhagen’

“Hi, I’m  Dan Uzan and I’ve been standing guard outside the Great Synagogue, in Copenhagen. It’s  bitterly cold but I can deal with that.

“’Wonderful, wonderful Copenhagen ...’

“ I love whistling that sweet old tune.

“’What a friendly old girl of a town  ...’

“I’m Danish-born and I went to a Jewish school here as a boy. I loved playing basketball and  I studied Economics before spending some time in Israel where I polished up my Hebrew. I was really pleased I did that.

“Then when I returned home ‘I sailed down the Kattegat through the harbour and up to the quay and there she stood waiting for me with a welcome so warm and so gay…’

“It was almost  like having a bit-part in a movie about our most famous writer. Te-da, te-da, ‘wonderful, wonderful Copenhagen ...’

“So now I’m here, on this merry batmitzvah party night, marking a sweet young girl’s entry into adult Jewish life.

“Believe me, I am really honoured  to serve as a volunteer security guard patrolling this grand, historic building.

“I’m aware, of course, that a place of prayer should be a haven of peace, not a fortress of fear. But as I’m here, I’ll do my level best to help to make things safe. I’m sure that later, the family – they’re lovely people -will offer to share a schnapps with me. This way, I’ll enjoy their festivities all the more.

“But tonight, it’s really important to put their welfare before my own comfort. As it’s Saturday evening, it doesn’t matter that I’ll get to bed late; I can always sleep in on Sunday morning …

“But, hey! What was that terrible bang? If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was  a gun-shot.

“Na! Couldn’t be. Not now. I know something bad happened here in July 1985, when this same synagogue was bombed  by  Palestinian  terrorists. But that was almost 30 years ago.

“Luckily, no-one was hurt at the synagogue – although there were casualties at an airline office. And everyone knows that lightning can’t strike twice in the same place.

“Can it?

“Surely not in our glorious city  – with the  pretty mermaid, gardens, castle, palaces - and visits to the house of our one and only Hans Christian Andersen.

“He was great friends with many Jewish people of his era and even mentioned us in some of his stories.

“But I’m in a mess now. I’ve got something like splinters in my eyes. They’re very painful. I don’t understand what’s going on but it seems like the late wartime monarch, King Christian X is walking in a state procession.

“Oops! I’m embarrassed to report he’s not wearing his clothes! Your Majesty – please have some of mine.

“Speaking of clothing, I know it’s only a silly myth that you wore a  Star  of  David   badge  in  solidarity   with  the  Jewish  community when the Nazis were in power.

“But you did finance the transport of Danish Jews to unoccupied Sweden, so they would be safe from Nazi persecution.

“With respect Sir, perhaps you now wonder why you made that effort. They say that life for Swedish Jews is even worse than it is here.

“Oh, dear. That’s it! My fault! Somehow, I’ve got ice-shards in my eyes. That’s why everything’s become so  dark, ugly ... I’m beginning to believe that the Snow Queen’s come back. I can’t see straight … Everything is distorted - hurts …  How horrible. I won’t be able to stand guard again … Not in my old life, anyway …

“Now I’ll sail away, singing Copenhagen, wonderful, wonderful Copenhagen for me …’”

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Author’s note: “The gunman believed to have attacked a Copenhagen synagogue and a free-speech event on Saturday 14 February 2015 was a Danish-born 22-year-old known to police because of past violence, gang-related activities and possession of weapons ...” (Guardian newspaper report).

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Natalie Wood

(© Natalie Irene Wood – 16 February 2015)

Alwayswriteagain: ‘Notes on the Nature of Love’

Alwayswriteagain: ‘Notes on the Nature of Love’: While the weather’s  cold, wet and nasty, there’s no better way of beating it than by snuggling up with a good book – on a sofa - with your ...

‘Ha, Ha! All in a Funny Week’s Work’

At least  a dozen people died and five more were severely injured when the Paris offices of French satirical magazine, Charlie Hebdo, were attacked mid-week by a gang of Islamic hooded commandos.

“It’s carnage!” cried Police official, Luc Poignard.

“Oui! That’s showbiz!” yelled the Islamic angel of death.  “You’re the ‘dagger’ I see before me and the Prophet has been avenged.

“Indeed, M. Policier, the diabolical humour in the meaning of your name is not lost on us. And if you think that’s funny, please remember how  in 2011 we gutted Hebdo’s H. Q.  after it dared to mock the Prophet Muhammad on its filthy infidel front cover. Another evil prank.

“Then a year later, again they tested our temper with more defaming, degrading cartoons. Don’t let Hebdo tell us that our Prophet is not sacred and that its scapegrace editor does not follow Sharia law.

“The first is -  and the other will – or else! We, the self-appointed guardians of Islam will persist in showing everyone who’s boss, even if we must terrorize, murder and otherwise obliterate all that gets in our way.

“Comprenez-vous?

“By the way, before we part company, I have to tell you about something that happened earlier this week which really was most amusing:

“An unknown Labour Party woman politician from the English provinces  hit the headlines simply for publishing a fake version of a rival Conservative Party poster showing the entrance to Auschwitz Concentration Camp. Remember? It was the place where the Nazis murdered millions of people – mostly Jews.

“She’s been suspended by her party. But I can’t think why. It was a great joke and only  about scummy, sleaze-bag Jews. British people have no sense of humour. And that’s their loss”.

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Author’s note: The title of the magazine Hebdo is the shortened form of hebdomadaire  and means ‘weekly magazine’.

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Natalie Wood

(© Natalie Irene Wood – 07 January 2015)

‘Just a Snippet’

‘Outcry over department store bras for two-year-olds’ (U.K. newspaper report)

“Hey, sweetheart! Wake up!” Mel urged Angie.

“I don’t want to be mean. But today you must be quick. Remember? We’ve got a bus to catch so we can be in London for our special appointment at 12 o’clock”.

“But, Daddy …”

“Don’t argue, darling. Not today, please. Just go into the bathroom and wash while I get our breakfast ready. Then when you’ve eaten, all you have to do is to brush your teeth”.

“But Dadd-eee”, said six-year-old Angie,  using her best wheedle. “I don’t need a wash. I had a bath at bedtime last night. Remember”?

“Yes, I remember. But you’ve had a sleep since then. Please, just go and …”

“But Daddy. It’s not fair. I can’t be dirty. I didn’t have any dreams. Anyway, Daddy”, added Angie, as she crawled out of bed and began to take off her pyjamas. I’ve got to tell you about something I need. Real bad”.

“What’s that?” called back Mel, beginning to canter downstairs.

“All the girls in my class are wearing bras. I want one too”.

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Natalie Wood

(© Natalie Irene Wood – 14 December 2014)

‘Aunt Lucy’s Last Stand’

(With apologies to Michael Bond and friends!)

Aunt Lucy snapped back the brim of her  favourite black hat, then looked very hard and cross at her reflection in the mirror.

“This won’t do”, she said. “Things may not be good in darkest Peru. But - my word - they’re much worse in London!

“So while I’m far too old to go gallivanting, when I learn that my favourite nephew is in need of ‘parental guidance’, I know that I have no choice”.

So without further ado, she wrapped her grandest shawl around her shoulders; pushed her feet into wellington boots left unworn since she’d become resident at the Home for Retired Bears, and double-checked the contents of her outsized reticule:

• Half-dozen 16oz jars Darkest Peruvian Vintage Coarse Cut Marmalade (suitable only for persons aged 18 years and over, not to be supplied to anyone below that age)
• Two score and ten bars 70% extra-bitter, plain chocolate (suitable only for persons aged 15 years and over, not to be supplied to anyone below that age) 
• Three dozen clean pairs unmentionables in case of accidents (please don’t ask!)
• Assault rifle and floor plan for use at Natural History Museum, London (violent content warning)

At last Aunt Lucy felt she was ready to leave for her arduous journey. But native good manners made her reach for her telephone to make an urgent call.

It took her a few minutes to find the correct number. But with help from a  gentleman at international telephone enquiries, whom she discovered was a distant cousin and spoke excellent Spanish plus an array of minor Amazonian languages, she was connected to  a line in London.

A friendly voice answered almost at once.

“Hello, Paul King here. May I ask who’s calling?”

“Hello, indeed!”, said Aunt Lucy, sounding most imposing. “If you don’t know who I am, what could happen next doesn’t bear consideration”.

“Oh, Aunt Lucy, said King, his voice oozing like melting butter on hot toast. “I thought you’d be with us by now. You know that our bio-pic, Paddington,  devoted entirely to the exploits of your wonderful nephew, is due to open this week. We do hope you can join us. It’s going to be so much fun”.

”I don’t know how you can say that, Mr King. I understand you’ve – well – given my bear ideas above his station. Up to now he’s always led a sheltered life; first with me; then with the Browns in their quiet suburban house. I don’t know whether I want him mixing with Hollywood riff-raff. I find it all highly irregular”.

“But, Aunt Lucy. I – er, I mean we - ”

“Please don’t interrupt, Paul, there’s a good boy”, said Aunt Lucy, using his first name as her patience began to fray. “I really can’t bear that sort of behaviour. It’s not seemly of a film director and writer.

“I simply want to speak to you before I arrive in London as I don’t think we’ll have a chance for serious conversation amid all the razzamatazz. What I must emphasise is that I don’t want ‘Paddington’ - as all you British folk insist on calling him – to be exposed to any dangerous behaviour, threats, sex references or bad language. No matter that it’s all ‘mild’. The word’s very subjective and as I must keep reminding everyone, he’s still very unworldly for a lad who was born in 1958. I  suppose it was the era as much as anything. But never mind that, now”.

“Please don’t worry”, said King, relieved to get a word in. “There’s no ‘sex’ – just ‘innuendo’; the bad language is only infrequent and anyway, everyone says the film is bloody marvellous”.

“That’s what I mean”, said Aunt Lucy, exasperated. “I think this is the real reason why that Colin Firth chappie said – what audacity – ‘he simply doesn’t have my voice’. Surely, Mr Firth means that he doesn’t have my nephew’s voice. But never mind. This is what happens when people lose track of who they are. In my day, there were places for everyone and everything, with all in their proper place. Now, while I’m in the mood, I’d like to speak to Michael Bond. He’s got my bear into a terrible scrape here and I want to know why. Mr King – Paul – are you still there … ?”

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Author’s Note: Paddington opens in London on Friday 28 November 2014 with a ‘P.G.’ – ‘Parental Guidance rating.

It premieres in Israel with the title הדב פדינגטון  (literally, The Bear Paddington) on 26 March 2015 with a Universal rating.

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Natalie Wood

(© Natalie Irene Wood – 24 November 2014)