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WORD UP TO ALL WHO READ THIS POST!!! IF YOJ HAVENT ALREADY DONE THIS
My wonderful wife, Anita-Clare won the Time Out Love London Award for the best restaurant in London SE26, then she was sought out by the TV company making his TV series, Hidden Restaurants, at the request of Michel Roux Jr. himself, to be filmed for the last programme in the series because in his words, “I’m saving the best till last.”
Now we’ve moved our beloved La Petite Bouchee from London to Devon and have been met with a great reception and numerous lovely reviews.  
We’re absolutely delighted (as La Petite Bouchee) to have been nominated in the Best Newcomer Category in the Devon Life Food and Drink Awards. Voting takes 2 minutes and you can be anywhere in the world to do it, so please vote for La Petite Bouchee here:

Desecration

 They had wrapped a plastic tie
Around the trunk,

Like the claw-like hand

Of a wizened witch,

Tipped in blue and oracle.

There is little sadder

Than seeing something artificial,

Man-made, unnatural,

Embracing a living,

Breathing, beautiful 

Tree.

Or else you’ll meet an early grave.

© Caro Ness 2017

Or else you’ll meet an early grave.

© Image Prompt: James Polamz King

https://plus.google.com/photos/photo/101638056787085783036/6428087939292351474?iem=4&gpawv=1&hl=en-GB

Funambulist

 

Excuse me, while I funambulate,

It gives me time to speculate; 

On what is up and down, and all about,

Of  what’s within, of what’s without.

To walk a rope, you place your feet,

In a certain way, that’s quite discrete,

A toe on a line, that’s slack, or taut,

And step into a world that’s fraught,

And filled with a sense of imminent danger, 

In which certainly is a certain stranger.

To tightrope-walk, you must be brave,

Or else you’ll meet an early grave.

© Caro Ness 2017

© Image inspired by Maricris Cabrera

https://plus.google.com/photos/photo/106238278503294098502/6428050601476872946?iem=4&gpawv=1&hl=en-GB

Funambulist 

Excuse me, while I funambulate,

It gives me time to speculate,

Of what is up and down, and all about,

Of what’s within, of what’s without

To walk a rope, you place your fe

In a certain way, that’s quite discrete,

A toe on a line, that’s slack, or taut,

And step into a world that’s fraught,

And filled with a sense of imminent danger, 

In which certainly is a certain stranger.

To tightrope-walk, you must be brave,

Or else you’ll meet an early grave.

© Caro Ness 2017m

© Image inspired by Maricris CabreraO

https://plus.google.com/photos/photo/106238278503294098502/6428050601476872946?iem=4&gpawv=1&hl=en-GB

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Funambulist 

Excuse me, while I funambulate,

It gives me time to speculate; 

On what is up and down, and all about,

Of  what’s within, of what’s without.

To walk a rope, you place your feet,

In a certain way, that’s quite discrete,

A toe on a line, that’s slack, or taut,

And step into a world that’s fraught,

And filled with a sense of imminent danger, 

In which certainly is a certain stranger.

To tightrope-walk, you must be brave,

Or else you’ll meet an early grave.

© Caro Ness 2017

© Image inspired by Maricris Cabrera

https://plus.google.com/photos/photo/106238278503294098502/6428050601476872946?iem=4&gpawv=1&hl=en-GB

Funambulist

Excuse me, while I funambulate, 

It gives me time to speculate; 

On what is up and down, and all about,

Of  what’s within, of what’s without.

To walk a rope, you place your feet,

In a certain way, that’s quite discrete,

A toe on a line, that’s slack, or taut, 

And step into a world that’s fraught,

And filled with a sense of imminent danger, 

In which certainly is a certain stranger.

To tightrope-walk, you must be brave,

Or else you’ll meet an early grave.

© Caro Ness 2017© Image inspired by Maricris Cabrera

https://plus.google.com/photos/photo/106238278503294098502/6428050601476872946?iem=4&gpawv=1&hl=en-GB

London Bridge & Borough Market 

London Bridge & Borough Market
Our hearts go out to all those who lost their lives or were injured in the atrocities in London and to their families. Has anyone else made the connection that these horrible things happen in London, the minute we support something that a lunatic American President (Bush/Trump) does that puts the world in mortal danger. 

7/7 was the result of Blair colluding with Bush. Until this “weak and unstable” government that we have now under Theresa (unelected) May stands up to Trump, we will continue to be bombed. After all, what exactly did Ms. May do when she was Home Secretary of any significance -apart from GETTING RID OF 20,000 POLICEMEN & POLICEWOMEN. 

Island In The Stream

There was an island in the midst of the river,

An island wholly covered with trees,

So bursting with life, it made me shiver,

And sniff for the smell of it on the breeze.

There’s nothing quite like the aroma,

Of Nature and everything in it,

It’s like sight sharpening after glaucoma,

Nothing artificial or counterfeit. 
© Caro Ness 2017
© Photo: Kaleidoscope

Scattered Seed

You left me without any warning,

So the seed we’d planned to plant together,

I scattered randomly throughout the morning,

And it’s survived every kind of wind and weather,

Today I came across a patch

That survived against all odds,

Yellow sunshine, without match, 

Amongst dead leaves and grimy sods.

To remind me of the love we shared,

Unexpected, perfect, right,

A love that was beyond compare,

That should have vanquished blight.

A beacon of perfection,

Of something true and pure,

Surviving ‘natural’ selection,

Weeds, burdock and manure.

These cheerful flowers symbolise,

That our love is still alive,

Despite the gloomy, threatening skies,

Our love forever will survive…
© Caro Ness 2017

© Photo: Bubbly B
https://plus.google.com/117628467991501795923/posts/6CxkF3Eou5m?_utm_source=1-2-4