I wrote the following piece of poetry two years ago and I have resurrected it here and tidied it up for a blog piece. I had it reviewed by an anonymous friend.

AUTHENTIC
by John Yeo
What does it mean to call something authentic?
If the sense of identification proves it’s real,
Can one prove the authenticity of it, unseen?

I suddenly woke this morning from a realistic dream,
The power of the images was unbelievably surreal.
What does it mean to call something authentic?

I pinched myself when things were not what they seemed,
An alternative reality that would be difficult to conceal.
Can one prove the authenticity of life, unseen?

A parallel experience that seemed alien to my lifestream,
Both lives were familiar as part of life’s spinning wheel.
What does it mean to call something authentic?

If I lived permanently ensconced in the life of my dream,
Reality as I know it would be a world that’s unreal.
Can one prove the authenticity of a life, unseen?

Would a schizophrenic personality somehow glean
Peace of mind with a new turn of the balance wheel?
What does it mean to call a life authentic?
Can one prove the authenticity of it, unseen?

Written by John Yeo ©️ all rights reserved

The style of this poem is free verse. It is a poem that does not follow any specific rhyme scheme or meter. The poem is written in the first person and explores the meaning of authenticity. The speaker of the poem asks a series of questions about what it means to be authentic, and whether or not it is possible to prove the authenticity of something. The poem ends with the speaker still asking these questions, suggesting that there is no easy answer.

  Margaret and I enjoyed a wonderful meal at a local restaurant. We weren’t celebrating anything special, in fact it was a night that we usually fondly describe as a ‘Just Because’ night.

  No.10 is a little gem of a restaurant that is situated in Augusta Street in Sheringham, North Norfolk. A small, select, family owned business run by the proprietors; Sonya who reflects a friendly welcome to the front of house and her husband Mustapha who has been cooking for almost 20 years. No.10 is conveniently situated quite close to the town centre of Sheringham,  the full address is… No.10 Augusta Street, Sheringham, Norfolk. NR26 8LA. Telephone number 01263 824400.

The interior of the restaurant has been described as vintage and is decorated with numerous vintage photographs and many ornamental talking points scattered around. 

  What makes this delightful restaurant special though is the always excellent cuisine prepared by Mustapha and the equally consistent warm welcome provided by his wife, Sonya.

   We were delighted with the meal and overcome with admiration for the cooking skills of Mustapha.

  We ordered drinks, Margaret chose white wine and I ordered a glass of my usual elderflower cordial. We were served with a wonderful taster dish of home made bread with olives and a tasty dipping oil.

   Margaret has an allergic reaction to anything cooked in rapeseed oil and also tomatoes. Sonya assured us this wouldn’t be a problem.

 We both started with a fillet of salmon served with pears, rocket, and tomatoes with an olive oil dressing. As promised Margaret’s portion was served without tomatoes. We both enjoyed this course immensely.

  Margaret had chicken supreme with potatoes, mushrooms and tarragon sauce for her main course. 

  I was served with a sea bass fillet with diced potatoes and red peppers and an incredibly tasty sauce.

  To follow we both indulged in a dessert of vanilla cheesecake with caramel sauce.

  We were both absolutely delighted with the quality and selection of dishes on the menu. The service was provided by Sonya the proprietor and was excellent, without any waiting time between the courses.

   No. 10 will always be our favourite restaurant in the whole of the area. We have enjoyed many meals there over the last few years and also whenever members of our family come to visit. 

I would highly recommend No.10 restaurant to anyone visiting Sheringham and the North Norfolk area.    

  I opened our bathroom window this morning whilst I was shaving and I was surprised to see a muntjac deer racing across our lawn into our secret blueberry garden. Unfortunately I was undressed and unable to go down into the garden to investigate. Margaret was involved in her weekly online Weightwatchers meeting so I continued washing and shaving. I finished my morning ablutions and went downstairs; the first thing I did was to check around the back of the house where I had seen the deer disappear. To my delighted surprise, I found myself face to face with a beautiful muntjac deer. The deer was approximately ten feet away from me and we looked at each other warily. The deer had a beautiful face, with big appealing eyes and a pair of large soft ears that were pricked up in a state of wary curiosity. I reached for my phone to take a photograph and realised it was on charge. As I moved my hand the startled deer panicked and unsuccessfully tried to jump over the brick wall at the end of the garden. Then it somehow scrambled up a wooden fence at the side of the garden and escaped. I later took a photo of this strange pile of black round objects, Margaret went online and asked Google and discovered they were almost certainly muntjac deer droppings.

I sat outside in the early morning sunshine composing my blog. The Robin redbreast instantly arrived to say hello and perched on a chair, allowing me to take some photographs. The resident community of wild birds together with a squirrel, quickly followed to feed on the crumbs of a biscuit I crumbled and spread over the patio.

We travelled along the A17 through rural Lincolnshire. It never ceases to amaze me how industrious the rural English are. We travelled through many well tended fields with a great variety of crops in the process of cultivation. The variety of houses and farm buildings with small shacks and sheds attached with many farming implements on display is impressive. We crossed a bridge over the river Welland, in Boston Lincolnshire. The river was satisfyingly in full flow thanks to the generous rainfall we have recently experienced. There was quite a lot of farm traffic along the road with many small  thriving businesses alongside the farming activity and industry.

The traffic became very heavy when we reached Sutton bridge where we were held up for quite a while due to road works and a three way traffic lights system.

 We stopped for lunch at the Chestnut tea rooms, a thriving little cafe attached to a large  garden centre.There was also a farm shop that sold fresh vegetables that were obviously provided by the surrounding farms The cafe is made up of a number of extensions to a large house including a conservatory where the the food was served, taking in the beautiful rural views.

 Margaret and I recently visited the highlands of Scotland where we were overwhelmed with the panoramic views. The English rural views seem to be unique in their unruly layout and different aspect wherever one looks. There is certainly a semblance of order in the appearance of the well cultivated scenery that betrays the boundary lines of separate farms that obviously go back generations.

  In early spring Margaret and I decided to remove and replace an old bird box that has seen the arrival and the fledging of several families of bluetits over the years. Almost immediately we were delighted to see a pair of birds visiting the new bird box and busily flying to and fro.    

  About three weeks ago we noticed the birds had disappeared and there was a sad lack of activity. Today I gingerly opened the box to discover about 15 tiny eggs in a beautifully constructed cozy nest. I took a photo of the nest and then explored the internet to discover what to do next.

 We were advised to leave well alone, at least until early September as another pair of birds may remove the eggs and start a family. We were both impressed with this beautiful, intricately built nest. We did wonder how a tiny pair of birds would manage to bring up a family of 15. Obviously this is another example of Nature overcompensating and relying on the survival of the fittest few chicks.  

VISION OF THE FUTURE
by John Yeo

The future is just a blink of the eye
We have not yet reached the next blink.
The blink just gone by is history
A few blinks in the past I took a breath.
When my eyes opened to a harsh brightness
Dazzling my senses as I came through
A red haze of darkness to where?

The eyes that foresee the future
mirror the magic of the past.
Eyes that once blinked attached to lives,
That built this present we inhabit.
When I sleep or my eyes are closed.
I inhabit a world of not now.
From suspended animation I wake
when I blink my way into the future.

The blind live in a magical present
built by patient sensual impression.
A future through the eye of a blind eye
Is darkness illuminated through thought.
Constructed by sensual expression,
Built by pure empathetic impression.
“Amazing Grace how sweet the sound,
I was blind but now I foresee”.
The future is just a blink of the eye.

©️ John Yeo

My response today to Doris Emmett’s Post-a-Day for May

WHERE TO NEXT?
by John Yeo

I often ponder on things that matter,
Sometimes incredibly simple ideas.
For example, it occurred to me today
Can anyone ever be completely happy?

A silly thought but very real
There is always something else in view,
the moment dictates how you feel
Overwhelming happiness is never true.

I feel very happy, although I have wishes,
If I have wishes is happiness complete?
Complete happiness would be mischievous.
There is always something, a goal to beat.

If there is a God, when I pass away,
Who asked then and there. ”Are you happy?”
I would have to think very hard, then say,
Life was good, I enjoyed the challenge.
“Where do we go from here?”

©️ John Yeo