Hello. Welcome to my ‘About Me’ page. My pen name is Anne Saddler otherwise known as the Grey Hen With A Pen.
I live with my husband and dog in the suburbs of a small port, in the county of Cornwall, in the far South West of England. I settled here many years ago after living a somewhat nomadic life. My father was in the Royal Navy and we moved every time he was posted…so every 18 months or so. This meant that I barely had enough time to settle somewhere, and make friends before we moved again.
31: I have things that need doing but I can’t get started. Is there a spirit animal guide that will give me the get-up-and-go I require?
The cheetah is a large wild cat native to South-West Asia, Arabia, and Africa. It is a slim creature and has a yellow coat with black spots. It is the fastest of all animals and can travel up to 70 mph in short bursts of energy.
The wisdom of the cheetah teaches you that sometimes you have to move fast in order to take advantage of the positive situations around you. …
My postings so far have all been about guitars or guitarists, bands and influences. However I actually started out, and have continued on and off, as a drummer.
Back in the dim and distant 60’s this fledgling rocker was first attracted to the percussive side of things. The seed was sown by my father, himself a jazz drummer and bassist. He took me to see a film called “Ball of Fire”. It showcased The Gene Krupa Orchestra. I was six years old at the time and this was my first visit to a cinema. …
“The dance of the poppy girls
One, two, three,
Is the jolliest jig
You ever shall see.”
The chorus of three young sisters rang
The corn growing high
Reaping in the sun went they
To find the brightest corns
The sun baked down
The yellow tall plants in
Slender beauty stood
Whilst three poppy girls
Leaping and running
Singing and playing
Musical in their rapturous play
On this magical poppy field day
The crow passes over many houses
As he flies across our skies
Peacefully with no worries at all
Such power over mortals down below
Is expressed in the way he flies
The lion of the skies is he
Who torments the high grown corn
And the farmer with his gun
Black and portentous are his wings
As from his cold beak comes a harsh cry
Then, to the left he quickly veers
Fighting the autumn gales and leaves
Gone from sight now
He is his own master
His own master is how he’s perceived
I love you
And now the burning of my love lies in my pen.
Frustrated and alone
I cannot show my love for you again
You smile at me
And hold me, not too tight lest you confuse
My pounding soul
And release me, thus making me feel used.
You kissed me
Only once, but ’twas enough to make me follow
You won’t love me as I love you
And so my heart wells up with sorrow
They signify with the joining of hands
That ceremony that will surely follow
But, I can see that there will be
The brightness of the park
On this cold winter day
Shines stark across the grim city smoke
I look down from my high-rise flat
Down into the grass below
The world looks new
Budding trees poke out from the melting frost
The fountain shooting icy water
High into the frozen sky
For it to fall straight back into the pool
To wait to fly; liberated again
I see them then
Adam and Eve — they walk along the path
Completely dissolved in contented sugar dreams
In their Eden garden
They stroll past the bushes of red, white roses
Past precious chrysanthemums or gold
When I was growing up I was always a little fearful of The Lord’s Prayer. I was afraid I might forget the words, or mix them up, and God would be angry with me! I would say the prayer every night before I went to sleep (just in case I died before morning!). I would also recite it if I was about to do anything scary like take an exam — why I’m not sure — it’s not as if God could have
checked over my answers in time for me to revise and correct them!
As an adult I…
Another poem I found in my clear-out. I think I was quite young when I wrote this — full of teenage angst!
There’s something in this world
That I can’t find anything about.
There’s something in the atmosphere
But, If I look into the skies
Of a heaven far away,
Then I might find
Care and love.
There’s a person in this world
Who I don’t know.
There’s a person in this world
That I need to find.
So, if I look into a star
Then, might I find
This person in the world?
There’s a light in…
Anne Saddler lives in Cornwall. She is a writer, blogger, and poet. Anne is a qualified lecturer and former Adult Education Tutor.