I'm hoping that today's will be the former although I'm hoping that I have enough inspiration to make this lyrical and even a touch poetical although by the time I put it together much of the inspiration had dissipated.
I'm going to call it - "A Morning in the Village." So here goes.
"My village isn't what you might call pretty. It isn't what you might call compact. In many ways it's a sprawling mass that seems to sprawl more each day.
But it is home and it's people that make it home. From the parish church to the fields across the B1172, the schools to the social club, the shops to the park. Everything is people powered.
So the day begins.... Coffee with my mate Mike. Mike hasn't always been my mate. I haven't known him all that long in the great scheme of things. But we enjoy talking about football, cricket and music. Always over coffee and cake (or maybe a scone or two). We chew the cud as hard as any cattle might and we leave feeling the richer for having spent some time together. That's what friendship is all about.
Putting up a poster for a coming event - no problem. Then onto the library. Groups meeting... the library alive... hub of the community.
There to post a copy of my and John's book to the British Library. A copy of every book has to be sent to the British Library but it's difficult to comprehend how they keep tabs on that with so many books now self published.
Wonderful comments on the book as people settled down to listen to Andrew Marino. a new addition to entertainment at the library on the second Wednesday of each month. I drifted away listening. I drifted not into sleep but into a world of peace and calm as Andrew beguiled us with melodies from around the globe.
Some pieces dripping Mediterranean sunshine, others wielding Celtic nostalgia and others flailing Scottish melodies, many written by Andrew.
"Here's one from America. You might recognise this," Andrew says in his just perceptible Scottish lilt.
And I do.
"Does anyone recognise it?"
It's "And I Love You So", an early song by Don McLean around the time he was writing "Vincent" and "American Pie". This was a hit for Perry Como if I remember rightly. You know Perry Como? It wasn't Christmas in the old days until Perry appeared in one of his knitted cardigans. One day these will be the old days. I couldn't help musing on that point.
I do lots of musing whilst listening to music. After his set I say hello to Andrew and "his big sister." There seems to be a lot to talk about and conversation flows easily. I mention Harry Chapin, which draws a blank with Andrew and then I remember the challenge I have set another musician friend of mine to play an acoustic version of Black Sabbath's "Paranoid."
And so the morning passes. I grab a number of books on walks in Norfolk - wondering if we will actually do any of them. Always good intentions... always the best of intentions. I make a mental note to have a look at Andrew's art which is on his Instagram channel. I have an Instagram account but can't say I've ever used it. Can't actually say that I know how to use it.
My village isn't what you might call pretty. But a morning moving around it replenishes the soul in so many ways. In ways of coffee, in ways of meeting new people, in ways of listening to new sounds.... in so many ways.
I want to return home and write a poem .... but my poems don't correctly express my feelings. So I will stick with prose... but even that's not adequate. Perhaps I should stop trying and see whether anything has flowed.
Has anything flowed today? I hope so.
Late in the day I turn to Instagram and marvel at Andrew's artwork. It's as intricate as his music, no it's as beautiful as his music. Music and art that has transported me to somewhere else today. Somewhere beautiful.
I'm not sure I've said what I wanted to say. I'm not sure my words have done justice to my day. But ultimately I'm just me. I don't paint, I don't play music (apart from the piano badly). I try to express myself through my words. That is my art and I am so glad that people out there still want to read what I write, am so supportive of what I'm trying to achieve and so welcoming.
So back from reverie to reality. You know how much I enjoy a nonsensical comment. This one comes from the Stoke City football manager Steven Schumacher.
"Football is all about moments and at the moment we are in a decent moment." Step aside Sir Steven.