Coming home from the pub old Jake
decided to swim in the lake
though the water was cold
and Jake was rather old
we all thought his death had been faked
Monthly Archives: May 2023
#Micro seasons
As lazy droning
waves echo off the petals
find beauty in weeds
Filed under Self compositions
Sammiscribbles weekend writing prompt #313 #Not so shy girl
Filed under Self compositions
Crimson’s Creative Challenge #237 #The danger within
To some this picture may look like fun
and to others possibly reckless
but it could easily offend someone
who remember a tyre could be a necklace
but hopefully those sad days are done
and the rule of law from such will protect us
Filed under Self compositions
Sammiscribbles weekend writing prompt #312 #The test of time
Now all the world knows that
Lord Horatio Nelson was an admiral
and some might even realise
that Garnet Wolsely damn his eyes
was the very model of a modern Major general
the test of time has shown us these are not ephemeral
Filed under Self compositions
Five quick and easy tips for a much healthier meal
The scientist and author Tim Spector wants to help you make small but important changes to improve the way you eat – while still enjoying your food.
Filed under Eco posts of note
Crimson’s Creative Challenge #236 #Belinda’s bower
Neath shady branches sits
a coffin carved from cold
grey granite garnished
with a softening mass
of fragrant mosses fair
as if to stir fond memories
of the flowing flaxen
tresses once so proudly borne
by the maid who lies within
Filed under faith, Inspired emotion, Self compositions
Ronovan writes #Haiku weekly prompt #463
Encased in it’s shell
the infant brain may still grow
expanding the mind
Filed under Haiku, Self compositions
Sammiscribbles weekend writing prompt #311 #The length of a sentence
Entering the room I was approached by two fair-haired, statuesque nubiles, offering glasses of an effervescent, clear liquid, both had pneumatic fenders deployed anticipating collision with walls or other obstacles, their glossy, one piece bathing costumes reflecting the fluorescent lighting, looking at me they mouthed the word fabulous to which I replied, absolutely, an allusion to a once popular comedy programme enjoyed by many, now considered one of the classics of that genre, this raised not a hint of recognition.
Filed under Self compositions
#writephoto-fresco #The shelter
It was frustrating. For two days we had been sitting down in the hot, humid cellar. Our wine was warm, our food was cold. At least we could breathe down here, unlike in the street above. The choking fumes clogged our nostrils, the tiny wind-blown cinders got into our throats. Everyone was coughing and the stench was unbearable.
From what they said it seemed to be getting worse outside. Last night only a few of us had come down but today more and more people started arriving. Most had not brought anything down with them in their panic. They were just concerned with getting away from the ash cloud that sat like a dragon atop the hill. The very ground had started to groan and shudder as if all the denizens of the underworld were on the move.
My father had told us that we need not worry as this had happened many times before.He stayed in the villa thinking that it would soon pass but the Gods appeared to be really angry this time. No-one was sure how to placate them. Even the priests from the temple had decided to join us.
As the daylight, what there was of it, Helios having been smothered by the dark, impenetrable cloud, began to fade for the second day, we heard a strange noise as if the very rocks and earth beneath our feet was moaning in pain and it seemed to be getting louder.
I shouted for everyone to be quiet and as our babble subsided we realised that the sound was coming from a great wind that was blowing through the passageways. Some of the women started to wail and before long both men and women started to sob as we realised something terrible was about to happen. Strangely there was no panic and I could hear my companions muttering low incantations. Before long even the chanting ceased.
Wrapping my cloak around my shoulders I took my wife and daughter in my arms. Their eyes were wide with fright and tears in the warming air. We huddled against the wall and the stifling air grew steadily hotter. We will try to rest, perhaps sleep and with the aid of the Gods return to our beloved Pompeii home in the morning.
Filed under As you read it, Factual, Flash fiction, History, Self compositions, Temperatures rising
When the pen takes control. 