Vile hordes of Hell spew
from the belly of the earth
the stuff of nightmares
Monthly Archives: Nov 2021
Sammiscribbles weekend writing prompt #237 #Musing
Between the solitary, candy-striped lighthouse and the white converted coastguard cottages, as the sun starts it’s daily descent in the western sky I see them exploring where the waves rhythmically, relentlessly, melt the sands, and wonder, had Shelley witnessed such a scene, would he have composed a wondrous poem to, “ The mudlark.”
Filed under Self compositions
Ronovan writes #Decima prompt #85 #Birthday celebrations
Woke up this morning feeling rough
after an evening to remember
in this cold frosty November
regrets now that I’d had enough
of cake and alcoholic stuff
consumed on the auspicious day
when friends and family all say
how pleased and proud they feel to be
part of this happy company
who I hope feel like me today
Filed under Self compositions
Crimson’s Creative Challenge #159 #Echoes of the past
As I walk along the sunken path
bordered both by fence and trees
my mind to calmer days is cast
when on most days there would be seen
men on horseback but more on foot
herding ponies, poultry, pigs or sheep
for this was once the road they took
down the valleys, over mountains steep
with dog and shout they drive them on
until at last their journey’s done.
Filed under Rural life, Self compositions
Ronovan writes #Haiku Prompt #385
A tree bordered lane
kicking up the mounds of leaves
an Autumn pleasure
Filed under Self compositions
Samiscribbles weekend writing prompt #236 #Saddenda
when old Jack left the Navy
he left his heart there too
he missed the camaraderie
being part of the crew
and if he started to feel lonely
there was no one to turn to
so if you’re thinking of joining up
this could be the only tale that’s true
Filed under Self compositions
Sammiscribbles weekend writing prompt #236 Jolly Jack
Old Jack he was a sailor
wore a suit of Navy blue
he’d sailed on all the seven seas
from New York to Timbuktu
and when he went home he’d tell stories
but most of them weren’t true.
Filed under Self compositions
Crimson’s Creative Challenge #158
As we moved on to the open ground
chatting, laughing, till we found
something that really made us stare,
who on earth would leave that there
I thought, and more in fear than surprise
I could hardly believe my eyes,
admittedly it gave me quite a start
this example of the craftsman’s art,
such a finely carved wooden chair,
who could leave that sitting there
my partner said we should be wary
it might belong to the King of the Fairies.
Filed under Self compositions
Crimson’s Creative Challenge #157
We thought we’d look for Robin Hood
so we jumped through the fence and into the wood
but of those men in Lincoln Green
neither hide nor hair was seen
but the walk certainly did us good.
Filed under Inspired by fable, On the lines of romance, Self compositions
Ronovan writes #Decima poetry prompt #83 “Respect.”
With head bowed, ramrod straight he stands
then turns and marches just one pace
his eyes fixed on the concrete base
his rifle tight held in his hands
each move meticulously planned
his puffed out chest betrays his pride,
as across the dais his boots slide,
the toes of which are polished bright
a task that took him half the night
in honour to all those who died.
Filed under Self compositions
When the pen takes control. 