The Ocean At The End Of The Lane Review
The Ocean At The End Of The Lane review by Robin Elliott @gohbelfast @OceanOnStage #OceanOnStage
It’s always good to see The National Theatre in Belfast and once again they didn’t disappoint. It was well deserved standing ovations all round at the opening night of the thrilling, magical, fantasy, adventure – The Ocean At The Lane Of The Lane.
Running at Belfast’s Grand Opera House all week this spectacular show from the imagination of Neil Gaiman has to be this year’s must see production.
I…
View On WordPress
456 notes
·
View notes
I don't want you to die for lack of ideas, so here I send you one: please, could you draw a ship with the "prep ♥️ greaser" theme BUT without counting Dirtmoney? Don't get me wrong, I love and am capable of defending the shipping with cloak and sword but it would also be interesting to see another ship with the same theme and with different characters (◕ᴗ◕✿)
if this posts twice NO IT DIDNT
anyways!!! THIS ASK MADE ME SO JOYOUS I LITERALLY JUMPED OUT O F MY SKIN !!! THANK U SO MUCH i love the greasies and the preppies so much i will literalt draw them Anytime
So for you, a Gordvance!! (Feat. Curly hair vance.. i saw that somewhere once and Never forgot.)
AND a bonus norton + parker :3 special interest boyfriends,,, hammer and gnomes 😁❤️
19 notes
·
View notes
The Pearl Of Them All - William Henry Ogilvie - Scotland/Australia
Gaily in front of the stockwhip
The horses come galloping home,
Leaping and bucking and playing
With sides all a lather of foam;
But painfully, slowly behind them,
With head to the crack of the fall,
And trying so gamely to follow
Comes limping the pearl of them all.
He is stumbling and stiff in the shoulder,
And splints from the hoof to the knee,
But never a horse on the station
Has half such a spirit as he;
Give these all the boast of their breeding
These pets of the paddock and stall,
But ten years ago not their proudest
Could live with the pearl of them all.
No journey has ever yet beat him,
No day was too heavy or hard,
He was king of the camp and the muster
And pride of the wings of the yard;
But Time is relentless to follow;
The best of us bow to his thrall;
And death, with his scythe on his shoulder,
Is dogging the pearl of them all.
I watch him go whinnying past me,
And memories come with a whirl
Of reckless, wild rides with a comrade
And laughing, gay rides with a girl —
How she decked him with lilies and love-knots
And plaited his mane at my side,
And once in the grief of a parting
She threw her arms round him and cried.
And I promised — I gave her my promise
The night that we parted in tears,
To keep and be kind to the old horse
Till Time made a burden of years;
And then for his sake and one woman’s…
So, fetch me my gun from the wall!
I have only this kindness to offer
As gift to the pearl of them all.
Here! hold him out there by the yard wing,
And don’t let him know by a sign:
Turn his head to you — ever so little!
I can’t bear his eyes to meet mine.
Then — stand still, old boy! for a moment …
These tears, how they blind as they fall!
Now, God help my hand to be steady…
Good-bye! — to the pearl of them all!
9 notes
·
View notes