Jesus Late 12thC Old English use hælend; saviour, from Greek Iesous, from Aramaic proper name Jeshua, Hebrew Yeshua. Four In The Afternoon St John 1. 35-51 Four in the afternoon, casting nets for men drowning, he had begun to set the pace. Staggered they grew close. Claims were made quickly. Honours heaped too thick. Each would regret later, this tendency to recklessness. Afterwards none of them could cope. Four in the afternoon: the circle widens. The last calls him a frog prince then a king. Only one saw the dilemma left unsolved. Getting a taste for sour figs. Four in the afternoon. Follow me. Jeff Guess Reflection: O Love That Wilt Not Let Me Go O Love that wilt not let me go,
Ruins Late 14c. ‘act of giving way and falling down,’ from Old French ruine, from Latin ruina ‘a collapse, Spanish ruina, Italian rovina. Ruined Chapel Here beneath the wind’s contrition and above the ephemeral splendour of the grass it has both carefully managed and maintained the stations of eternal things. Now it has become a sky scoured shell where falling stones refill a vault of empty praise the closed gospel of a winter’s morning decades past when the last of two centuries of prayer drifted like the vagaries of wood smoke into airy nothingness as the congregation went home. And is there nothing left of hymn or homily; colour, cup - the dull wafer of piety and faith? No - only in the b
I was in transcendental mode when this book arrived. I was searching my mind for different meanings to my life, other tasks, other ways of fulfilment. Could there be subliminal purposes for us all? Ordained by whom? Agnostic that I am, I wondered if there really was some unimaginably different power or spirit out there, and if so, how should we get in touch with it? In the meantime should we rely in our ponderings chiefly upon fact, suggestion, truth or fancy? In short, I was discombobulated! Every-where humankind, it seemed to me, was in squalid disarray, ugly and loveless, perhaps beyond redemption: the world, quoth I to myself, was too much with me. Then the postman turned up, and with h
Venere Di Canova South Australia prides itself as embracing the arts early in its history and this statue, translated as Canova's Venus was Adelaide's very first public street statue unveiled in 1892. North Terrace, Adelaide, South Australia. ©Jeff Guess 2017
Olives c.1200, ‘olive tree,’ from Old French olive, from Latin olive, from Greek elaia. Picking Olives There are barely two colours: green and grey. The first, of dull drab olive from the hill; and secondly a close knit sky that weighs above the trees a massive crop of chill: a long canvas the old man borrows from- to pull beneath the trees. And she, whose shape now questions the ground for answers takes on a small grizzled piece of the same cloth to cape her hair and shoulders. See with their sticks and pails what strange creature they are become- who mine the long ripe hedge and heavy pick of hidden fruit. Winter winds its own numb sheet about the scene - hemmed with wind and rain. Two pal
Matthew Flinders The explanation afterward for everything was the ship inside his skull not the leaky one he sailed in mistaking the new blue ocean for Defoe’s prose but the old barque of ambition with hubris in its sails tied to an arrogant rudder his brilliant navigation simply the superb circumnavigation of his own self-importance the consummate cartography of a small, slight, thin-lipped man drafting in every detail his proud disagreeable nature and haughty infallibility and in doing so solved the riddle of an unknown southern land and put Australia on the map. Jeff Guess North Terrace, Adelaide, South Australia. ©Jeff Guess 2017
North Terrace, Adelaide, South Australia. ©Jeff Guess 2017
Autumn From the 14th century. The Old French word autompne and from the Latin word autumnus (autumn; autumn fruits, harvest; of autumn, autumnal). The usual word for ‘autumn’ until the 16th century was harvest. Autumn ‘When I said autumn autumn broke’ Elizabeth Jennings Sky dreams the day - grey on grey. The way early morning air dusts the outside furniture with dew; and I close the wide summer doors at six o'clock to stay the draught of evening cold. Jennings spoke years ago of Proust, birthday cakes bonfires and smoke. Time locked within the ache of seasons like a roll of film. Something else recalls the long sun filled slide into damp and cold. Yellow leaves in drifts of thick bundles at
C.J. Dennis was born on September 6, 1876 in Auburn, South Australia, Australia as Clarence Michael James Dennis. He was a writer, known for The Sentimental Bloke, His Royal Highness and Ginger Mick. He was married to Olive Harriet. He died on June 22, 1938 in Melbourne, Victoria, Australia. Hist! . . . . . . Hark! The night is very dark, And we've to go a mile or so Across the Possum Park. From ‘Hist’, ‘ A Book for Kids’ by C.J. Dennis There's a very funny insect that you do not often spy, And it isn't quite a spider, and it isn't quite a fly; It is something like a beetle, and a little like a bee, But nothing like a wooly grub that climbs upon a tree. Its name is quite a hard one, but you'
Dead Tree Great grey galleon against the golden morning sky posts pigeons in its ruined rafters roots deep in Kaurna land and centuries ancient blackened by fire before white settlement still sailing in silence and solitude just before the disused railway bridge fretting into the last century re-leafed each morning with a kind of sacredness. Jeff Guess A River Red Gum (eucalyptus camaldulensis) estimated to have died before white settlement in a bushfire still evident on its lower trunk. ©Jeff Guess 2017
