Sadly, my mother passed away two weeks ago. As you can imagine there is always a lot to do at this painful time. I am currently seated in her electrical recline and lift chair making all the necessary arrangements. She was confined to this room and two others for two years prior to her demise. Her main regret was not being able to watch the birds on the feeders as she was able in her previous garden. Due to her inability to stand she was unable to see the birds frequenting this small garden from this seat. Looking up, I glanced out of the window as I had noticed a stirring of the abundant foliage of the honeysuckle bush beside the window. Then the dark brown head of a hen blackbird emerged. Within two minutes a cockbird flew into the bush, passing in full view of the window. Had my mother been alive she would have reported the sightings to me during our next telephone chat. In all this time this is the first time a bird of any species has chosen to nest in the bush. She would have been able to follow the progress of the raising of a family from the comfort of her chair. But sadly this is not to be. Is this irony, I for one cannot say but it underlines the sadness that invariably accompanies death whether a curse or a blessing.
Monthly Archives: Jun 2019
CCC #30 ~This farming life
On an Exmoor farm worked a boy called Ted
He drove a tractor all shiny and red
Out in the fields he’d work all day
Ploughing the earth and gathering hay
The farmer said now come here my lad
Tis about time a wife you had
I offer to you my daughter Sue
She would be just right for you
I thankee kindly Sir was his reply
But I do bat on the other side.
Filed under As you read it, Comic verse, No offence intended, Self compositions, Whimsical
Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #16
Stine86Engel@pixabay.com.
I awoke with a start. Disappointed I found myself in my cramped bed-chamber but I was intoxicated with joy for I had dreamed of an encounter with the Gods. Voices from on high had echoed in my head. Inviting me to join with them in their magnificent palace in the skies. Zeus himself had called my name. He had sent a magnificent swan to stand beside my bower. I climbed upon the beautiful bird’s broad, silk-soft back and was carried up into the heavens. Faster than the wind we flew till we reached a golden castle adorned with towers and minarets. Oh, so gently the swan landed in a magnificent garden where fountains played and I was greeted by a group of hand-maidens who, laughing at my shy confusion, ushered me into a scented room. Along one wall was a carved ebony bench on which a smiling cherub sat, in his hands a lyre from which he teased a tune of infinite harmony. In the centre of the floor was a steaming pool of water on which floated many brightly coloured lotus blossoms. I was invited to bathe and afterwards. emerging from the pool was anointed with sweet perfumes. They wrapped me in silken robes and I was gently ushered into a room with white marble walls. Each covered in damask tapestries of intricate design. Dazzled by the opulence of my surroundings I was urged to recline upon an amber couch furnished with cushions of infinite softness. My feathery steed stood sentinel and held his wings above me as a canopy. I laid my head upon the pillow and immediately fell into a deep slumber. That is all I, Leda, remember of my encounter with the Gods, be it fantasy or frolic.
A clerihew
Theresa May
has had her day
she will probably be remembered
for causing her party to be dismembered
Filed under Clerihew, Factual, Self compositions, Whimsical
RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #256 Hope&Dash
All dash to the scene
in the hope no life is spared
a wreck to plunder
Filed under As you read it, Factual, Haiku, History, Inspired by fable, Self compositions
Sammiscribbles Weekend Writing Prompt #108 ~Mercurial
On the screen before me, the world of King Henry, the eighth to rule this land. A court of intrigue, deceit and religion. We know each character in this pageant but will never truly know this volatile man.
Filed under As you read it, Factual, History, Self compositions
When the pen takes control. 