Francesca Bossert's Blog, page 3

DUCKS DELUXE

Or, put more simply, DUCKS DELUXE

An Anglo-Swiss owner of a home overlooking a golf course on the Costa Brava has uncovered compelling evidence that ducks – like humans – enjoy new and shiny experiences.

Indeed, after a dramatic overnight storm, this keen observer – who requested anonymity “out of modesty” – noticed a surprising mass exodus from the golf course pond visible from her balcony.

Dozens of ducks abandoned their resident watering hole and raced - yes, they actually raced! - towards these fresh, glistening puddles left behind by the rain, where they splashed and quacked with what our observer described as “delighted abandon”.

Limited evidence is available to support these allegations, as the homeowner neglected to take photographs of said racing, quacking and splashing, claiming she’d been “far too amused to think of her phone”. Further questioning revealed that “golf-course maintenance personnel wearing Welly boots soon descended in droves, behaving like the most beastly duck party-poopers”. She reported observing said insensitive personnel stamping out waterfowl celebrations by stomping in circles, churning the fresh rainwater into oblivion.

“It was like that famous episode of I Love Lucy, but with less wine and far more emotional devastation,” our witness lamented, providing us with a selection of lacklustre photographs, and a Haiku of questionable quality.

DUCKS DELUXE

Consumerism

also affects Spanish ducks.

But in a good way!

🦆 ☔️ 🦆 ☔️

This is exclusive footage of the homeowner’s husband rowing around the pond in their former home in a tiny dinghy. There are - apparently - plausible reasons for his, but they remain mysterious.

A boring photograph

FRISKY BUSINESS: examining the logistics of lust

Coldplay in concert!

 This poem was inspired by the recent palaver at a Coldplay concert!

If you met somebody new,

Someone exciting, witty, cute,

Would you conduct sweet rendez-vous’?

And if you did, what would you do?

Would you smooch under the stars,

Enjoy hot stuff in comfy cars?

Would you splash out on fancy hotels,

Glide hand-in-hand past personnel?

Conduct high jinks in penthouse suites

Between luxurious silky sheets?

Would you rush home right before dawn

Pretexting all night business calls?

Would you go to daring lengths

to keep your illicit secret safe?

Would so much faff be worth the risk

of frisky business, saucy tricks?

 

THE BIG BAD EGG: THE NEW HIT SINGLE!

Hello!

I needed a little pick-me-up today. I’m fed up with being sick. I’m exhausted, I can’t keep any food inside me, and I can’t leave the house.

I read for a while. I had a nap. Then, I did some crochet. Which was nice, but I was restless. Also, I kept being interrupted…

I wanted to do something different. I wanted to do something fun. Something new!

So I did a thing. And no, it’s not like I’m now going to try and build a career in the songwriting business! I simply downloaded a program and set a few of my poems to music. And I had SO MUCH FUN!

I started with Joyride, which is a poem I wrote this week. I asked for Indie music and I got a song that I think is cute!

Then I uploaded my Meanies, which is about, well, mean people! And I giggled my butt off!

But it was when I uploaded The Big Bad Egg, added a chorus, and asked for a rock song what I truly couldn’t stop laughing! I played it over and over and ended up literally crying with laughter. Alone in the house! Yep! It was that funny (to me!). I only wish I had added the chorus after each verse, but I hadn’t done that when I uploaded Meanies, and the program did it anyway. And my Humpty song would have been even funnier with the chorus a couple more times. But it gave me a good tickle nevertheless. Full disclosure: if you play me the off-key recorder version of the Jurassic Park theme song on You Tube, it is highly likely that I will cry with laughter. I am very silly like that! So maybe you won’t find my Humpty song all that hilarious at all. Which is fine.

Here is the original poem:

THE BIG BAD EGG: SCRAMBLED, UNFIT TO SERVE

Humpty-Dumpty has a big head.

Humpty-Dumpty lights powder kegs.

He’s playing with fire surrounded by liars,

While the whole world looks on with dread.

Humpty-Dumpty sits on his wall,

Swagger-tweeting he’s winning it all.

He’s sequestered the army to come to his party,

And most of the country’s appalled.

Humpty-Dumpty’s out of control,

Humpty-Dumpty has selfish goals.

Now many are fuming because nothing’s improving.

How long until Humpty implodes?

And here is the new hit single!

I hope it makes you giggle!

Love

Cesca xx

DIAMONDS IN YOUR PUDDLE

I had a crappy day yesterday. My IBD came roaring back when I decided to stop taking one of my medications because the bloating it caused me made me terribly uncomfortable. It wasn’t really helping either, at least not enough to warrant putting up with the distended stomach.

 

Inevitably my body went ballistic, and despite my determination to stay on the sunny-side of life by writing a poem about my blessings, by yesterday afternoon I was so fed up that I retired into my bedroom and connected with my inner-wounded animal. Once the storm subsided, I fell asleep for hours, woken up by my lovely husband suggesting dinner.

 

Honestly, I’m so over food! I know it sounds crazy, but I really am. If I could avoid eating altogether I would. Apart from breakfast! I love breakfast. But this morning I even cut down drastically on that, in an attempt to calm the flare. Ha!

 

Today’s poem grew out of my wounded-animal spirit which nonetheless always reaches for the silver lining.

 

I hope it speaks to you, and that you find diamonds sprinkled all over your path today.

 

With love,

 

Francesca xx

 ❤️🌿❤️🌿❤️🌿🔧☀️🔧☀️

DIAMONDS IN YOUR PUDDLE

Maybe you stumbled today,

sweet pea,

and heavy darkness

muddies your sparkle.

 

If it feels like you’ve spent

every last penny of courage,

and despair has tossed you

face down in the puddle of your impossibilities,

 

Know this:

You are not required

to constantly present your radiant

sunny-side up.

Especially if

your forecast

is raining spanners.

 

Forecasts change.

 

Maybe -

just maybe -

there are diamonds in that puddle.

 

Otherwise, there’s always this poem.

 

TO-DO LIST FOR THE GROUNDED

My body is a prisoner,in a gilded cagefluffed with love-feathersfor which I am grateful.Yet how I long to air my mind -for outdoor adventure,a day at the beach,a hike in the Pyrenees,a trip to the city.How I missmy freedom!But I shall not surrender to the slouch of sadness.Instead, I will fluff the love-feathers of my fabulous cage,Inhale the summer-scented Spanish heat,Enjoy a water adventure in the pool,Swoon over the rich eccentricity of the agapanthus,Admire the butterflies relishing the tiny red flowers by the front door,Seek the kitten and its mother spotted among the tall grasses,Watch the willow flirt with the breeze,Ponder the possibility of a Cyprus tree,Flatter the oleanders into offering new blooms,Marvel at the wild agility of Oenothera (a.k.a Gaura),Praise the geraniums for matching my nail polish,Chirrup with the goldfinch,And smile at the cicadas.It didn’t take long to wish everyone could share my to-do list.🌿☀️🦋🌸🐜🐥🦆🐇🐈Blessings have been counted.Also, @Jane Pike, I may even paint some more Shitty Birds 🦅🦢😀I just finished the audible version of The Correspondent, by Virginia Evans, and loved it. Stunning production!I wish you a lovely day,Francesca xxIllicit Croissants At Dawn - poetryJust Like A Movie - romantic comedy

JOYRIDE: Lapis Sky, Sequinned Sea

Lapis sky, sequinned seaPerfect car, perfect we,Don Henley on repeat.Summer boys whoop and wave,Shiny teeth, flattery.We just smile, having fun,In our blue convertible!Salty air, salty skin,Scandi-gold, smooth as silk.White tee-shirts, denim shorts,Wind-whipped hair, old flip-flops.Bright red toes, shell-pink nails,We just smile, having fun,In our blue convertible!Volume high, seat-dancing.Cruise-control, Highway 1,Southward bound, chasing fun.Big Sur days, crazy times,Joy and I,Kind of wild!We just smile, having fun,In our blue convertible.🌊🌿🌞❤️🍾Good morning!A couple of weeks ago, I had a phone call from an old friend in California. Years - what am I saying? Decades! - have passed since Joy and I last saw each other. It had also been forever since we spoke.Our conversation brought back a flood of great memories from when I lived at Joy's house in California, way back in the eighties. Joy is one of the most generous people I’ve ever met, welcoming me into her home for months (and months!) at a time. She worked as a freelance real estate agent and was, therefore, master of her own schedule.A fun-loving, mischievous free spirit about ten years older than me, Joy loved to party, and often threw impromptu late-afternoon gatherings that turned into all-night fiestas, complete with guitars, singing, dancing, plenty of beer, wine, Margaritas, and the occasional smile-enhancing accessory for anyone so inclined.Joy and I would often take off down the coast in her trailer for a few days in Big Sur, camping at Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park. I adored Big Sur, with its wild, unspoilt beaches, majestic forests, and picture-perfect river. I loved the laid-back hippie vibe, Happy Hour at the River Inn, and those gloriously floppy late nights at Esalen, where we’d loll in hot tubs beneath the stars, thoroughly off our trolleys, chatting with complete strangers until dawn. Magical powers would then cruise-control us back to Joy’s campervan, where we’d sleep for a few hours before heading back to the River Inn for bacon, eggs, and hashbrowns to soak up the hangovers.Later, we might hike up a canyon in search of the elusive waterfalls our hot hippie friend Johnny swore existed, or wander down to the beach, watch the waves, and hatch plans for another unforgettable evening.Close to forty years later, I look back in utter awe at Joy’s generosity, so freely given and, in my youthful thoughtlessness and naivety, probably largely taken for granted at the time. I hope I managed to repay some of that kindness when we later travelled together to Switzerland for further adventures.I don't have the perfect photo to share with the little poem I wrote with Joy in mind. I'm not currently at my home in Switzerland where I'd have found a myriad fun photos of those days. Then I remembered a grainy old Hotel California video I made at Joy's house, circa 1984. I'd spent hours splicing it together using rudimentary equipment, matching scenes to the beat of the music. I wasn't sure I still had it saved in my photos, but there it was, waiting patiently!Time has made this recopied VHS video extremely grainy, but I don’t mind. I think the grain gives it extra cachet. It’s a slice of life. A moment. An era.Also, have you ever met anyone who could drive with one leg out the window?I have. Her name is Joy!With lots and lots of love,Francesca xxx

PERMISSION TO PLAY!

Pastels, water, paintbrush,fun,sunny day,old skills long gone.Squiggles,colours,blotches,oops!Splodges,who cares! Carry on!Dipping,trying,smiling,yes!Doodlingquirky feathered friends.Itchy,Fishy,Silly,Loud!Join the Shitty Bird Club,You can’t paint wrong!Come on! Join in! I did and I haven't painted since high school!Illicit Croissants At Dawn - poetry Just Like A Movie - romantic comedy

GOSSIPEERS: beware the side-effects of gossip

Good morning,

I guess we all give into gossiping at times - if you don’t, please tell me what you eat for breakfast. I strive to be practically perfect at all times, but I do keep a pair of good tweezers and a toothbrush handy, just in case…

Lots of love

Cesca x

RUBIES AND RUBBLE: PARIS BIDS, PALESTINE BLEEDS

IMAGE AI

While snipers calibrate

to solve the Palestinian Problem

once and for all,

a bidding war breaks out in Paris

over a dead celebrity’s handbag:

cracked leather

stained lining

sticker residue

ten

million

dollars

 

Going once

Going twice

Gone.

 

Somewhere over the rainbow

an auction afficionado

on a private island

sips champagne and scoffs

“What a steal!”

having dropped

thirty-two and a half

million

dollars

 

late last year

for Dorothy’s ruby slippers.

 

Meanwhile, in Gaza,

a child is pulled from the rubble.

 

No yellow brick road

No good witch.

No shoes.

No home.

 

No heartbeat.

ILLICIT CROISSANTS AT DAWN

 

FIFTY SHADES OF BIC: from the stationary aisle to the edge of ecstasy

The notebook…

 

Your aloof attitude shall not spare you.

I have come for you,

Virginal notebook,

My pen cocked,

My ideas flowing.

 

You lie there,

Pristine, defiant,

Yet you know what lies ahead.

I shall find

Bliss among your blank pages.

 

You are my destiny.

 

Oh, do not act surprised!

You flirted shamelessly with me

from the stationery aisle -

all creamy paper and come-hither spine.

 

Let me doodle in your margins,

leave crumbs of brilliance

and droplets of midnight oil

between your lines.

 

You will enjoy the ride,

and together we shall become

 

Immortal.

 

My poetry collection, Illicit Croissants at Dawn, would love to be taken on holiday with you…