Thursday Theme=Stage

Opera d' Avignon-Pays de Vaculuse

Closeup of the upper arch of Opera d' Avignon-Pays de Vaculuse

All the World's a Stage
by William Shakespeare

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

Theme Thursday=Ghost

Medieval town of Besalu, Spain

Ghost what can I say about them, I don't really know. I have read and been told they are friendly or menacing. Among the friendly ghosts I have seen on TV are Casper. Remember how cute he was. Another ghost I loved to watch on TV was the sea captain in the Ghost and Mrs Muir. In literature I remember the ghost in Charles Dickens the Christmas Carol. And there was Hamlet's father in the works of William Shakespeare. I wonder how many and what type of ghosts might be wondering around Besalu. These ancient walls have tales to tell, I wonder what they are.

What is a ghost? I'm not really certain.
Do I believe in ghost? Yes I do.
Have I ever seen a ghost? I'm not certain. I can't say if it was a ghost or a spirit. Years ago I was awakened by a spirit that resembled Christ in a white robe. To this day I believe it was a visitation from the Lord. I was not frighten, but at peace when it happened. At the end I was given the answer to a question I had about another person. That's all I have to say about this subject. I'll leave you with a poem.

Our Little Ghost
a poem by Louisa May Alcott

Oft in the silence of the night,
When the lonely moon rides high,
When wintry winds are whistling,
And we hear the owl's shrill cry,
In the quiet, dusky chamber,
By the flickering firelight,
Rising up between two sleepers,
Comes a spirit all in white.

A winsome little ghost it is,
Rosy-cheeked, and bright of eye;
With yellow curls all breaking loose
From the small cap pushed awry.
Up it climbs among the pillows,
For the "big dark" brings no dread,
And a baby's boundless fancy
Makes a kingdom of a bed.

A fearless little ghost it is;
Safe the night seems as the day;
The moon is but a gentle face,
And the sighing winds are gay.
The solitude is full of friends,
And the hour brings no regrets;
For, in this happy little soul,
Shines a sun that never sets.

A merry little ghost it is,
Dancing gayly by itself,
On the flowery counterpane,
Like a tricksy household elf;
Nodding to the fitful shadows,
As they flicker on the wall;
Talking to familiar pictures,
Mimicking the owl's shrill call.

A thoughtful little ghost if is;
And, when lonely gambols tire,
With chubby hands on chubby knees,
It sits winking at the fire.
Fancies innocent and lovely

Shine before those baby-eyes,
Endless fields of dandelions,
Brooks, and birds, and butterflies.

A loving little ghost it is:
When crept into its nest,
Its hand on father's shoulder laid,
Its head on mother's breast,
It watches each familiar face,
With a tranquil, trusting eye;
And, like a sleepy little bird,
Sings its own soft lullaby.

Then those who feigned to sleep before,
Lest baby play till dawn,
Wake and watch their folded flower
Little rose without a thorn.
And, in the silence of the night,
The hearts that love it most
Pray tenderly above its sleep,
"God bless our little ghost!"

Thursday Theme=Funky

This week's Thursday theme is Funky. It is a word that is commonly used and we have a general idea what it means. So I wanted to find out what is the actual definition for the word FUNKY. For your information and mine here is the definition for FUNKY.

Main Entry: 2funky Function: adjective Inflected Form(s): funk·i·er; funk·i·est
Etymology: funk offensive odor
Date: 1784
1: having an offensive odor : foul
2: having an earthy unsophisticated style and feeling ; especially : having the style and feeling of older black American music (as blues or gospel) or of funk (a slick, heavy beat that is unmistakably contemporary and irresistibly funky — Jay Cocks)
3 a: odd or quaint in appearance or feeling b: lacking style or taste c: unconventionally stylish : hip — funk·i·ly adverb — funk·i·ness noun

The song that best fulfills definition two is the song Gonna to Have a Funky Good Time performed by James Brown