Category Archives: History

Sue Vincent’s weekly #Writephoto #arch


Bare walls
where once pictures
gazed down and smiled
content in their task,
ransacked, the gospels
in the glass now gone
the sins of the world,
through the arch revealed
let in with the cold
of despair


Filed under Alternative history, faith, History, Self compositions

Colleen’s Weekly #Poetry Challenge, No. 72: Breakthrough & Movement, #SynonymsOnly, #Haibun


Though the talks had stalled both sides of the table were eager to get a resolution. It was a tense situation but with use of common man to man language albeit in foreign tongues, the impasse was broken and there was seen to be leeway on both sides. Thus the deal was reached limiting the production of weapons of mass destruction.

Over polished tables

old enemies scowl and stare

settled with one smile


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Filed under As you read it, Haibun, History, Self compositions

Colleen’s Weekly # Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 69, “BOND & SEEK”


while hunting in the forest

is beset by thirst

Salmacis looks for his love

in an eternal embrace





Filed under History, Inspired by fable, Self compositions, Tanka

Sue Vincent’s regular Thursday photo prompt – Woodland #writephoto


Lupinus stopped and raised his right arm. He glanced to right and left  sniffing the warming morning air. There was nothing to see on both sides but a mass of dense forest. “I smell woodsmoke,” he explained, “but it may be from an old fire or perhaps more recent. It is quite strong however.” I knew better than to question his judgment, after all that is why he had been chosen to accompany me on the journey. A native of this strange land he seemed to have almost magical senses, hearing, eyesight and smell. His tastes left a lot to be desired, he abhorred fish oil, perhaps he found the smell rather overpowering. He was not averse to the meat from the pheasants that we had introduced though, declaring them to be good, much better than his native avian choices and took every opportunity to attend a meal where he knew pheasant would be on the menu. For this journey though we had brought very little of either, relying on our wineskins and small packs of bread and cheese. After all we would shortly be arriving in Camulodonum. The prefect of the town would be happy to provide sustenance for his unexpected guests from Gaul. We had important news to deliver concerning a local woman. Apparently a strikingly good looking woman but still obviously barbarian in speech and habit. Lupinus had spent the previous day trying to convince me that the women of this island had rights equal to the menfolk, they could even lead armies and make all the decisions that we Romans would not think of entrusting to anyone but members of our Senate. “Nonsense, ” I had scoffed, “they are only good for two things, keeping you fed by day and warm at night, oh, and producing sons of course.” Although even I am inclined to believe that they have a devious nature and are probably secretly laughing at our mistakes, occasionally offering advice that we should be foolish to ignore. It was my turn to feel slightly uneasy, I could smell nothing, let alone see more than ten metres to either side, the trees and undergrowth were so deep. Anyone could be lurking in there, I could even be walking into a trap, after all Lupinus was originally one of these barbarians, he had been hostaged when he was but a young boy and as far as I knew, had never expressed any desire to return to the home of his parents or contact his remaining brothers and sisters. No. I was being unnecesarily wary, I would trust him with my life, but? Anyway only another couple of hours and we would arrive in the town. I was looking forward to a hot bath, a change of clothes and an evening banquet………..
    I put the book back into my rucksack. It was a pleasure reading the story of Paulinus. The book was recommended to me as my landlord knew that I would be walking down the same old track that those two unfortunates had taken some two thousand years before. Ironic that the manuscript on which the book was based was recovered from the old cellars. A part of the town that survived the storming by the Iceni. Reading between the lines it appears that they were on the way to warn the Provincial governor that there was a stirring in the North and with the legions away in the far West they should think about shaking the dust off the uniforms and weapons of the local militia. Pity poor Paulinus arrived at about the same time as the good-looking red-haired woman who he thought incapable of anything but cooking and cuddling. That’s the way it goes. Anyway that’s my rest over, time to get walking again before it gets dark, you never know what’s lurking in these woods.



Filed under Flash fiction, History, Inspired by fable, Self compositions, Uncategorized

Colleen’s Weekly #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 68, “Myth & Write,” #SynonymsOnly

On these fabled walls

a poet did once inscribe

visions of paradise

even now we search in vain

for these stately pleasure domes


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SoCS Dec 30-17


Resolution, a name used frequently for ships and submarines of the Royal Navy. The first ship of the name being built in the 1600s. The last vessel to bear the name was a ballistic missile firing submarine of the Revenge class, specifically built as Britain’s nuclear deterrent being armed with the Polaris missile system, and remaining in service until 1994 when the Valiant class of submarine took on the mantle.

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Filed under Factual, History, Self compositions

Sue Vincent’s Thursday prompt #Writephoto


Memories of an Exmoor boyhood.

I’ll tell you a story you won’t believe,

of the dreadful Winter of sixty-three,

when for three long months only white was seen.

apart from the waves and the rushing stream,

country and cities covered in snow,

no colour but white wherever you go,

the tarmac roads unsullied by tyres,

families huddled round smoking fires,

waves stood frozen at the waters edge,

with icicles hanging from every ledge,

while up on the moors where the snowdrifts rise,

their tall peaks reaching upward to the skies,

no fodder for the flocks of sheep,

frozen and buried under snow so deep,

with no road transport villagers said,

how can we live without milk or bread,

the peoples plight was soon relayed,

and a plan decided for their aid,

the only way to ease their plight,

was by using a helicopter’s flight,

daily trips were undertaken,

so the country folk were not forsaken,

on country roads many cars were buried,

but the snow and cold would not be hurried,

for twelve long weeks the cold steel hand,

firmly grasped our once fair land,

till one day late into the Spring,

the Sun had a re-awakening,

when Mother Earth the sun’s rays felt,

the covering began to melt,

the roads and trains were free again,

the melting helped by Springtime rain,

towns and villages now were free,

to lead their lives quite normally,

although the sun’s rays always burn,

we wait in dread for the cold return.


Filed under History, Self compositions, Uncategorized


She wears a gay mask

but behind the smiling eyes

lie pools of sadness

a mental residue

from her shunned maternal love


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Filed under History, Tanka, Uncategorized

SoCS 12-16-17

Immediately I saw the word contrast an image sprang into my mind. An instant reminder of classic adverts and Xmas delights from the 1960s. I refer of course to the the fantastic Cadbury’s contrast chocolates. The enticing tightly cellophane-wrapped package packed full of expectation of the delights to come. A great name alongside Roses, Terry’s Allgold, Black magic and others of which only a handful now remain. Oh what sweet bliss these memories conjure.

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Filed under From the heart, History, Inspired emotion, Self compositions, Uncategorized



We sat in silence in the yurt in expectation not knowing why we had been summoned. A boy entered with three jugs with bamboo tubes for straws.  I looked inside mine, the cold hit my nostrils for it contained frozen yak milk which is only offered to visitors as a great honour.

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Filed under Flash fiction, History, Self compositions