Recently, I visited Australia and swam, drove, biked, and walked around some of its best-known places. Today’s video presents photographs of Sydney, the capital city of New South Wales and the most populous city in Australia. In future posts, we visit the Outback, southern coast, and Great Barrier Reef.
I started my tour at the Sydney Opera House. The Opera House complex dominates as a landmark. Its iconic architecture greets the eye from so many different spots in the city, from the riveting (pun intended) Sydney Harbor Bridge, bountiful Royal Botanic Garden, and historic Rocks and Circular Quay streets and alleys. It is a must-see on anybody’s agenda. If you can, take in a show at the Concert Hall. The acoustics are awesome!
For the solo sojourner, couple, group or family, there are plenty of dining, shoping, and entertainment choices in Sydney. Although somewhat pricey, the budget-minded traveler can still enjoy Sydney by taking in its free sites, city walks, gardens, and museums. The weather is always pretty good, too. Enjoy!
Notes on the LYRICS to the song “A Bernice Memo For No One”
The lyrics were written in the poetic form called Chanso, poetry made famous by French and medieval troubadours beginning in 12th century Europe. Chanso song-poems consisted of five or six stanzas and an Envoi, whose length was half a stanza. However, as an extremely flexible form of poetry, writers wrote poems so each stanza could have as many lines as wanted. Yet, lines of equal syllables, and a rhyme scheme, (such as AABB or ABAB,) were expected.
In respect to the flexibility of the chanso, this song has only four stanzas (four lines each) and an Envoi (two lines, exactly half of a stanza.) Syllables and rhymes are consistent.
A Bernice Memo For No One
“Today is the first day of the rest of your life.”
Adages of life she wants to take to a knife.
Bernice did notice the swirling, curling roses.
“God, is that ugly!’ she screams, then sits and dozes.
With well-aimed toss, she heaves the pegs into the holes.
Images of a workplace filled with withered souls.
And replaces her discontent for a caress.
The ancient and decaying face of loneliness.
Gruffness, time immemorial, her life unborn.
Times of trouble, too frequently, become the norm.
Manifested in splotchy patches of rose’.
“Funny, this seriousness as a protege’.”
Pressures and headaches fill a lifetime on the job.
Anger, not craziness, force her to weep and sob.
A career she wanted to get out of for sure.
In disillusionment, take the pay, slam the door.
ENVOI
Perhaps you believe the house murderer is she?
Then keep checking out this Boarding House mystery.