Blind Rondeaus and Viktoria

When I awoke the storm had passed

A passing pheasant

Noted that it had enjoyed its dreams

But had forgotten to vote

I was travelling to Barmouth in North Wales. I had been promised mountains,sand and sea and a desk made of oak where I might write confident letters to the goldfinches of the area

The motion of the train brought me sleep and soon I was dreaming of my destination. Its long straight beach which was overlooked by handsome buildings created from the local stone. How I longed to caress each of them

In the distance the mountains fleeing from the reality of the sea broke the horizons of ragged cloud

It was between these distant peaks that I had decided to set my travel diaries to music with the help of a full orchestra

Only the oboist was missing as he was my travelling companion

He was sitting opposite but I could not see him as I was asleep although I knew his aunt who ran a hotel not far from the Barmouth beach where I would be staying

Her name was Viktoria and she had originated from a land many seas distant. She had been the sole survivor of a shipwreck on the Shrewsbury Sound and had set up home in this small Welsh town and showed no inhibitions when feeding the birds who flocked to her hotel

In a short time she became very rich

I was to share a room with the oboist who I could not see but this did not happen as he ran away with a Nagsie when in the Wrexham Mild

When I arrived I was greeted by the hotel owner whose name was Dewar

He was the maternal father of Viktoria although they were not related

Eleven Times Niagara

There has never been a road in Barmouth called Goosebrook Road. Many have searched but without success

I joined them and found nothing

All roads in the town begin with the letter A

Examples are Atlas Street and Christian Road South

On the roads to the mountains there were many road signs showing a startled stag. This is strange as stags are such rested creatures

I was also attracted to the suburbs of the town which spread to the sea front and were often washed away during the amber tides

Each house that I visited had a barometer made from fine wood and two bone china mugs showing likeness’s of Shelltiffs in pink and green

The people who lived in these houses lived sheltered lives marred only by their obsessions with colonial wars.

I often found these houses empty as the occupants had left to fight the battles of empire

14

I travelled to the mountains and when I arrived I found that the area resembled a building site. I was informed by a passing butler that the mountains were holidaying amongst The Alps

“They enjoy their privacy and are not disturbed “  

Half way up the mountain that was not there I stopped and spoke to wooden bench which had previously enjoyed a position at the summit

It spoke fondly of the views it had once witnessed

I closed my eyes and spoke of my memories of moths

When I opened them the bench had gone. It had returned to the summit of the mountain that was no longer there

I knew of the humour of wooden benches with iron supports and continued my journey. Within the hour I was joined by the bench once more as it had developed vertigo and sea air had been recommended

As I sat in the hotel room I discussed the music of my travel diaries with the bench who was sharing my room as I had a spare bed

It noted that music and travel diaries are although related not close relatives

I asked the bench to compose a symphony twenty five minutes long with five intervals of five minutes; a silent crescendo was required after three minutes and an even quieter one after twenty nine minutes

Whilst the bench was composing I looked out of the blind window at the day sky. I could see a planet called Doomed Earth which was some eight hundred light years away and visible only from the southern hemisphere

The planet which was slightly bigger than Earth was made of iron and was in the gravitational pull of a Scorch Star which meant no life was supported with the exception of a colony of Brut Artists who had been exiled during the Reformation

I admired its tides, tides are more interesting when viewed from afar

Using the Study Moon/Study Post method the symphony was finished in five days.  I called it M Figaroula although in some rooms of the hotel it was known as The Station Mahler after the famous composer who had passed the cousin of a woman born in Rhyl on a particularly wet August afternoon in 1933

 

Authors Note, the author was reported missing shortly after finishing the previous paragraph. He was last seen in a gift shop in Alf Alfa Street at about 7pm on the previous day. Since then he has vanished without trace. He has requested that I abandon this poem.