This page is dedicated to the loverly city - Birmingham, UK
and all Brummies around the world :)
Thank You for visiting (s). Enjoy !
photos by lori
JAMES BRINDLEY PLACE
Peaceful and immobile, standing on the
The tower's bell reminds of time..
photo by lori (c)
photo by lori
She writes verses about the hotel? How strange!
But she smiles, ignoring them. Her eyes traveling
She must be daydreaming, caressing her memories.
June 13, 2000 13:45
photo by lori
Full of surprises, she makes us look at her twice.
You’ll have to look at the wall display, in a restaurant
We saw the artful combination of ordinary daily food,
Just walk ahead and there they are, the rounded steps
How fragile is that grand dame, how hidden she’s from eyes.
On upper floors, presented with individual taste, artists are
And as we walk away from the graceful lady herself, she
June 16, 2000 ( 13:45)
LoretaM ©
Picturesque canal boats are resting on each side,
Slowly walking over the narrow, green-painted
June 13, 2000
photo by lori
The Ode to A Heavenly Soup
Patiently seated at our corner table
Our ecstasy noticeably grew with each
Delicious, green-coloured soup displayed
Astonished moans escaped our mouths
We devoured the soup, down to its last drop
She smiled and said,"Thank Chef from Heaven
LoretaM. (C)
B-bear was born in Birmingham and in his early age moved to US.
Beneath the unusually blue sky
Surrounded by warm red-bricked walls
James Brindley Place's heart pulsates
In rhythm with my exploring soul.
Top step, just left to the lovely canal bridge,
Just standing, letting sunrays kiss me..
Waiting and serenely smiling.
One look around, then second one..
Display of restaurants and shops and
The multitude of people of all ages..
Languidly moving around me.
Symphony hall looks as busy as always
Swamped in last-minute tasks for tonight's
Delightful events. In the background are hotels
Around me.. invigorating bars and cafés.
All that at the heart of this charming square
Dancing in the fields around canals and I
And I , just the same..loving Brindley Place..
June 13, 2000
LoretaM ©
WHIPPING WINDOWS AND THE FLAME OF HOPE
Thick metal bars, stonewalls and two stern windows
Like deep, black eyes watching me. Tempting me.
From my safe place at the small, rain-covered, tiled square
I stare at those mysterious eyes, wondering what is inside.
I hear a sound. Is that a weep, lamenting cry or call for me?
I move closer, glance to the right and to the left.
And now I see.
I see the flowers and high pedestal and a large globe and a flame.
I see the vast space, clouds and a portion of bright blue sky.
"What is that?" I ask and the gentle reply arrives. "Hope"
I turn back, and hear again " It is the Flame of Hope" voice said.
I move my eyes away, from warm radiance of the charming flame.
In front of me I see again, these black iron eyes that tempted me.
Step by step, magically transferred, I find myself so close to iron gate.
The vestibule is desolate, just me, my soul and I and echoes of the past.
I stand inside the iron eye; the bars are cold to my touch. I hear a whisper.
“ I have been whipped and bound to bars, but now I am free”. I gasp.
And then I lean against the stone; I touch again the iron bars.
I look outside and see the Hall, I hear the memories of past.
And now I know about the Hope and of weeping of the magic eyes.
And now lament has gone away, and happiness has come my way.
June 13, 2000 (14:00)
LoretaM©
THE HALL OF MEMORIES
Such a small treasure, few beautifully shaped
Blocks of stones, a rounded hat on the roof,
Tiny windows on the walls, few statues resembling
Guards of the heart and small portal on façade.
Such a small treasure, with colossal, warm heart.
I slightly stumble at the door, feeling thousands
Memories surrounding me, amazed and impressed
I walk inside, past stories dancing around my legs.
Invisible hands holding me, pulling me with them.
Such a small treasure, with tearful, salty eyes.
The book is safely resting beneath protective glass.
The names are written in neat and tranquil lines.
Rows of emotions subtly and elegantly displayed.
I pray and close my eyes to feel the souls of past.
Such a small treasure, with mighty, stirring life.
June 13, 2000 ( 13:50)
LoretaM ©
BIRMINGHAM’S HYATT HOTEL
Monumental, tall and overwhelming
You dominate the view from the little square
Where she stands. Dark and shiny, clouds
Sketched on your glassy surface, what else
But the elegant Bham Hyatt hotel.
Raised eyebrows in disbelief …how strange….
Hidden looks at that silly poetess. How strange!
Up and down Hyatt's imposing presence and
From down up, almost like secretly looking at a lover
She moves her eyes away, aside and than completely
Cast down. What, oh what is happening in her mind?
LoretaM ©
IKON
Like a full figured woman, with warm shapes of a
Mature, gracious lady, glowing in the crowd,
Distinguishly seductive, there she stands, The Ikon.
Inviting us to discover the secretes she holds inside.
That’s residing there, just as you enter and to the right.
The eggs, olives, beans, and onions and other things
Submerged in boxes and leisurely swimming within.
Made all of wood, metal and can’t you guess? Of glass!
And as I walked on glassy steps, I felt like fairy from the tales.
She leads us further, exposing herself. The curtains rolled up.
Offering us a glance into their enriching, colorful worlds.
From photos to films and various displays we take and we
Treasure, we gasp then breath again. Memories remain.
Makes us smile and look again from lovely windows of
Her soul, out to the world of our own. She hands us the
Key and pleasant words “ Goodbye for now, see you again.”
THE BRIDGE AND CANAL BOATS
Slowly walking over the narrow, green-painted
Bridge I feel some sudden urge to stop. Leaning
Over the rail, looking at the quiet, slow moving
Water beneath, "Hey and hello" with serene smile
On my face, whispering more to the canal, than to
The people that surround me and pass me by.
Brightly painted in familiar array of happy red,
Soothing green, youthful yellow and inevitable
White brushstrokes. Elongated canal creatures
Proudly displayed by their adventurous owners
Carrying vases of planted flowers atop the cabins.
Bridge. A smile is on my face. Charming boats,
Indeed, transformed one rainy Birmingham Day.
LoretaM ©
This poem is dedicated to the chef and personnel of the Brasserie "Le Petit Blanc"in Birmingham, UK
The evening was tranquil and calm
We did not know what was to come
But when we entered "Le Petit Blanc"
We found our destiny predetermined
We lingered till a waitress arrived
With pleasant smile, courteous look
She presented the magic Menu to us
New French word..new longing raised
Anticipation heightened, a soup was served
"Bon Appetite", our lovely waitress said
Garnished with parsley,a touch of cream
Aromas enthralled our every sense as we
Submerged our spoons into its very soul
" Oh, Eden, what gift this was indeed"
With each fresh sip, new moans escaped
Delightfully, sinfully of orgasmic sort
Almost ashamed of obvious lust displayed
As the lovely damsel approached the table again
We politely asked for the soup's ingredients
The contents on paper he has described
Mushrooms and rosemary are at its heart
With a loving touch of onions, cream and thyme"
December 20, 1999
Special regards from the adorable Bham Bear (s)
When you touch him, he touches you back and sends you good vibes . Try it !(s)
He was photographed by lori
Please feel free to email me if you happen to find interesting Bham sites.
You can use this window to send an instant chat request and I will respond if on line..
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