I join Helen at Da Marathon!

mGf Mr Coww is back for a good two weeks after doing some national service in the Republic down south, from where another counsellor just returned after her annual pilgrimage there on a busman's holiday.

And this mornin' mGf nigh Catsville sends me early spirited greAtings:

"During this Christmas season,

May you be blessed
With the spirit of the season, which is peace,
The gladness of the season, which is hope,
And the heart of the season, which is love.


Blessings, Yan"

Thanks, and I share her Greatings with Awe EsteemedRTeaders to Desi's Place too.



Almost a month earlier I had been inspired by Yan's sharing to pen something on writHing with one's soul. Human beings that we are, often we fall short of what we are cpabale of. "To err is human", yes, but often the greater crime is To err on the same offence again and again. It's to friends like Mr Coww and Yan that Desi seeks guidance to walk through Life's mists and cobble-stoned alleys that he may see the glimmer through the fog and not lose his way.

"2006 @ 5:39 pm

Hi yan mGf fished out of blogosphere:

I only know of spirited writes before I was educated by two soul-mates both in cyberspace and terrestrial; now I have an approximate idea what you mean.

I’m still getting there, in the steal of the night when I hear the stillness of the heartbeats, and one man’s less hurried ways about this material world.

I realise the soulfulness lies very much within the Self and not in the riches that self-centred Man craves and spends excessive energies chasing after.

I hope to meet some other soul-mates throug this short sojourn in earth, and if God allows it, maybe I'll proceed to count among the toes on top of my ten fingers. Among them hopefully is one soft smooth ladyfinger, and a constantly vigilant tiptoe onto Desi’s Place that I walk right. OK, mayhaps leftist sometimes."



THis WedNUREDay the sky is dark with ominous clouds but the rains hesitated, maybe because the elements know Desi has to go to the outdoors to refresh. We sometimes need to be at one with the elements to wash out the toxins and feel re-energised. So what if the rains cometh?

Just walkin' in the rain
Getting soaking wet
Knowing things have changed
By trying to forget...?

I just came from allofhelen.blogspot.com and she's into a Shaolin movie marathon. I told her I'm into the WWW.
Is Jane Mansfiled or Marilyn Monroe available at the saloon tonite?

And the www conjures for Desi the one and only John Wayne -- dead yet very much alive. Some legends never die -- they just linger on and one until the fans fade away like the credits at the end of the movie.

Remember North to Alaska, way up north so that I can meet with Sabrina and Theels. No gold nuggets never mind, just Witsgifter Chocs.

Or remember The Alamo, where outnumbered men defended their Fort to the last man standing. Do we see such heroism in modern movies nowadays? Oh, no...it's all blood and gore, and more gore -- insensisble gore. After some 50 stabbings into the innermost guts, the hero is still fighting like he's into the first of 12 rounds. Overkill in gimmickry, technology blind alley ... No, I prefer the good olde story line ... when Good triumphs over Evil, and Brave heart wins Gallant lady, of the day or night, itdoes not matter.


So I'm enamoured of High Noon. All for the live of a girl, a cowboy makes a stand to defend the town against the villain. And who else but Gary Cooper to walk out into the empty main street to face off with the one Other -- only of of the two would remain alive and standing a few minutes after the town clock tolls 12 times. For whom the bell tolls -- the Man and his belle? Of the Villain and his whiskies?


Sad movies
They always make me cry.
THat wil be for another session when winter sets in. Now it's still springtime in the Seremban Valley.
Christmas is callin'
We must try to be
Young and Gay.




Green Leaves of Summer

A time to be reapin',
a time to be sowin'.
The green leaves of summer
are callin' me home.
'Twas so good to be young then,
in a season of plenty,
When the catfish were jumpin'
as high as the sky.
A time just for plantin',
a time just for ploughin'.
A time to be courtin'
a girl of your own.
'Twas so good to be young then,
to be close to the earth,
And to stand by your wife
at the moment of birth.

A time to be reapin',
a time to be sowin'.
The green leaves of summer
are callin' me home.
'Twas so good to be young then,
with the sweet smell of apples,
And the owl in the pine tree
a -winkin' his eye.

A time just for plantin',
a time just for ploughin'.
A time just for livin',
a place for to die.
'Twas so good to be young then,
to be close to the earth,
Now the green leaves of summer
are callin' me home.

'Twas so good to be young then,
to be close to the earth,
Now the green leaves of summer
are callin' me home.