Old and New – A Dash of Sunny


modern tradition

– an oxymoron some would say,

but i beg to differ.

the beauty of the design of today –

clean lines, smooth curves, simplicity,

matched with the serenity of age-old customs

handed down from parent to child

from mother/father to daughter/son –

or sometimes with a slipped stitch in time

that was caught, just in time

to re-forge the link that almost

wrenched the chain asunder.

modern tradition

that’s how I do it.


It’s time for my (mostly) weekly entry into A Dash of Sunny’s Prompt Nights, where this week we are asked to choose a photograph and write a poem or piece of prose inspired by it.

The photo is mine, of my Chanukiyyah that I love because of what it represents (my Jewish heritage), but also because it is beautiful in and of itself. It is made of iron and is so, so heavy, so very pleasingly substantial. I am sure it will outlast me!

All the branches are filled with lit candles, so that signifies the last night of Chanukkah, the eight day ‘festival of light’ which you can read about here, if you would like to know more!

Please do head on over to A Dash of Sunny to read how others have responded – and why not take part yourself?

Time for Tea! – dVerse Open Link Week 117

Here’s my latest entry into the dVerse Open Link – why not take a look at everyone else’s wonderful responses?

This piece is about a great British tradition, inspired by an overheard snatch of conversation and a memory of growing up that gave me that warm, fuzzy feeling. I hope you enjoy it!


– Time for Tea! –

A cup of tea, it cures all ills
Here in England, the land of Wills
& Kate, and Good Queen Bess
Forgive me now, I must confess

To being rather a fussy type
You know the sort, it must be right,
First you have to warm the pot
Then add the leaves, use a lot

There’s not much worse than a feeble brew
Unless of course you let it stew –
Under-steeped or left too long
Third-rate tea, well that’s just wrong!

A china cup is just the thing
From which to let the flavours sing
And lift you after a long, hard day
You know, we won the war that way

Or so my grandma used to claim
When I was young, the old refrain
Of ‘Shall we have another pot?’
Was something she would say, a lot

I drank it, though I wasn’t fond
Because she made it very strong
The way my grandad liked it, see
It was his perfect cup of tea.