Oh, Annaliese, what we miss by not having royalty. Can you imagine feeling this way about George Bush? Or Bill Clinton, for that matter? Now, of course, I'll be humming Rhapsody in Blue all night long. Wet is good, we come from the water.

Soft and surreal, as if everything is right, you softened my jagged edges tonight. Love and light to you always.

Your queen comes out as brilliant as the fireworks over the bridge and the flame she inspired.
as are your words describing it all

I remember once knowing
the superlative of wet ...
is simply rain
steadily dripping
down
the very tip
of your nose ...

these lines especially telling.

John, I’d kept looking at BBC’s website thinking surely after yesterday there would be coverage of today. Finally I thought I’d listen to see what was playing on World Service and there it was ... all of it. My reward ... well the first reward was music that has been a life thread for me ... Gershwin’s Rhapsody. Happily humming there, I hope.

I understand, Bleue, about jagged edges ...
Often you ... are such a softening ...

Rita, thanks for being there ... with these thoughts from the first.
From the moment I knew about the beacon flame ... all the flames ... I’ve been even more drawn in. The first Martello tower I ever remember seeing was really at the bottom of our road. It had been opened as a town museum, but in Napoleon’s time and in Hitler’s still, I think, it served as a warning place ... lights were set where they could be seen ... beacon to beacon to beacon ...

All through the Commonwealth today, beacons were lit. At least the Commonwealth countries who reached evening before London’s night. Families are families and sometimes tensions rise, but on days like these, at least for moments, families come together. Tonga, New Zealand and Australia lit the earliest of the beacons ... one even in diversity.

The lines of rain ... thanks for noticing those ... I remember the day those lines came. It was a bit more than a mile from our house into town. Almost every day I needed to walk to the shops for something. You have to be able to carry the shopping home. I had a lovely over the shoulder hemp-like bag that held most everything. If I over- shopped, I carried other bags in my hands.

Because I lived so close to the sea and because the wind could blow so hard, brollies were ... well ... they would simply blow away ... and so the rain ... and all the wet ... and because I couldn’t use my hands to brush the rain away, there wasn’t anything for it except to watch and feel it dripping down my face and off my nose. I remember also needing to look down ... not only to keep from falling over ... but because there is no such thing as windscreen wipers for your eyes, if rain blows straight toward you, there is not really much you can do ... except laugh, look down, watch that you bump gently into other walkers if wind tells you where you will and will not walk, laugh again, keep going, as rain is still ... dripping ... drip ... drip ... drip ...

I lit a candle here just before the Queen lit her beacon. Warmth ... connecting ...

as here, Rita, as here ...

sigh, your link had me lost in a flurry of tailored clothes that cost more than my yearly salary :) kinda fun
"I remember once knowing
the superlative of wet ...
is simply rain
steadily dripping
down
the very tip
of your nose "
i love that- it was all good, but that will stay with me

laugh, Rita snagged them first.

This is wonderful. Your Queen is an inspiration. I enjoyed reading so very much. I also love the verse about the rain.

One is grateful one noticed Julia.

One has just returned from the flyover above one's balcony above a red white and blue sea of of people. One might need a cup of tea, after all of this.

Sir Paul called one "darlin," as in "All my lovin' darlin' I'll be true."
Good gracious, one isn't sure where to look !

Never mind, a day to go. Sixty years, & jolly strapping grandchildren, I must say.

Dashed rain, dripping from the end of one's nose ...

:-)

Anna
You words are decidedly beautiful
Honoring the queen
Lines running wonderful
Keeping that candle lit
Hope in the window
Tears drip from my chin
Water is magical

Thinking of the rain and you with your hemp bag the poet and writer, noticing the small hands that rain has, how when you let it just drench you, it makes it's own pathway.

"the superlative of wet" - gorgeous, as are the rest of the musings.
It did remind me of ee cummings and I noticed that Rita remarked on that too.
That exquisite last line of his poem:
"nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands"

Watching the concert and now Charles. For and Englishwoman, I must say the Queen appeared moved.

How you make me smile ... all of you.
Let me be with your words a little while longer ...
to let them ... like the rain ...
settle in ...
a gentle rain outside just now ...
here ...
as though someone sent it to me ...

smiling rain,
smiling thoughts ...

As it rains here ... still, a smile. For connection. For the world being a small place really.

Just beautiful...thanks for sharing this with us...What struck me was the unity and pride for country and leader --their Queen. If only we had that here in America, not the back biting, divisive, forked tongue talking heads but something or somebody that could unite us!

these:
the superlative of wet ...
is simply rain
steadily dripping
down
the very tip
of your nose ...

and

after all ...
wet is ... only wet ...
no wonder everyone reaches for tea ...

(Eliot would be proud)

Since I am not French or American, I do not have that deep distaste for royalty others have. After all, had the fortunes of war been any different, I would today be a subject of another crown still.
There is something extremely fascinating about aristocracy, even though crowns must weigh some and thin hair.

I just read You at an impromptu `Rant/Riddle.

If Ya was in a VA hospital I'd kidnap Ya? Okay?
I know You serve humanity. Ya one Apple Pie.
You is No filthy kindergarden ill-politiclo? No!