Category Archives: Whimsical

Thursday photo prompt: Avenue #writephoto

avenue

It was the time of Sennei again. We stand in our lines,  along the avenue known as the windwhistle corridor, males to the left, females to the right.

We all lean forward holding our magnificent freshly green head-dresses steady. Having practised our lines for many days we bow low and whisper our self-composed love sonnets in the allocated ear of our chosen intended.

Each of us males has a rival with whom we stand shoulder to shoulder facing a selected female, hoping that the young future brides would choose us. If she cannot make a decision between the two beaus chosen for her then duels will have to take place. The prize, a bride with whom to mate and procreate.

For now, while the breeze is gentle the only sound that the people walking between us would hear is the familiar, soft rustling  of the leaves. All oblivious to the seriousness of the ritual taking place above their heads.

If a duel becomes necessary then the pair have to wait until there is a gale. Each tree is lashed against his opponent till one gives way. Some of these duels become quite violent with the occasional loss of limbs, even death by uprooting but this is rare as it would not gain anything for the species only the victor.

Most of the time the females are able to choose the strongest of the pair and accept the gentle brushing of their pistils with our anthers containing the fertilising pollen.

Now the wind plays another important role as the seeds may be carried far away from the avenue to land in another inviting area of ground, take root  and at the mercy of the grazing deer or rabbits attempt to start a new plantation of trees. In time they will have their own Sennei in their own avenues.

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Filed under As you read it, Flash fiction, nature inspired, Self compositions, Whimsical

MLMM First line Friday 4-14-18

The dance lessons were not working. This, sadly, was the first thought that went through my mind as I gazed down at the forest floor. Oh yes, my little boy, the brightest and gaudiest of last years brood, hopping, arching, extending first one wing then the other. All to no avail, all the hens were watching him, you could see the smiles wrinkling their nostrils in snorts of derision as they shyly turned their laughing heads away, beaks wide open, as if catching fruit flies. It was no good him having lovely iridescent blue wings and orange and crimson breast if he couldn’t do the dance I had spent so long trying to teach him. Oh well, no mate for him, no little grand chicks for me this year. Lessons begin again in the morning.

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Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge #197 Fun&Sun

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Fun need not rely

on that rare glimpse of the sun

but it often helps

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#SoCS April 14/18 (mon)

“Mon dieu!”

”Boje moy!”

The cries rang out in disbelief and exasperation tempered by apprehension.

The United Nations security council had only agreed on one thing. Each ambassador had discussed the crisis in monosyllabic tones painting  a monotone picture of the situation. Of the five members, after monotonous discussion and argument three had agreed to disagree and it was left to the French and the Russians to persuade their joint members one way or the other. Eloquence in speech was required which could only be guaranteed by harmonic tones from either side. Only this would decide the fate of la monde.

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Thursday photo prompt #Writephoto

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A very British subject

We love to talk about the weather, though
it seldom promises fine, we know
winds from the West bring cloud and rain
if from the North, cold and cloud again
and from the East it’s colder still
guaranteed to cause a chill
sometimes though, but in truth rare,
a Southern breeze will warm the air
the clouds disperse, the skies turn blue
a brief respite from English gloom
so it is at times like these
we see man’s footprints on the  beach

 

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Twittering tale #79

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Surfacing, I turned over and lazily stretched my arms. Only then did I hear an excited chattering. Looking round I was confronted by a strange looking creature with four heads pointing weapons towards me. I dived once more in fear. We mermaids are a nervous race. 261c.

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Thursday photo prompt: Shelter #writephoto

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“Look at that dad!”

”What are you pointing at Joey?” I asked straining my eyes to see what he meant.

”Over there, in the hedge, it’s a big black teddy bear, can I go and talk to him?”

I laughed at the curious bush which even I thought was rather bear-like, “Go on then, see if he wants to come on our walk, but be careful, he might want to gobble you up,” I joked.

Then I said, “Take Sandy with you, you can let him off his lead, if there’s anything there he won’t let them hurt you.”

Joey and Sandy ran up to the hedge, Sandy started to bark loudly, I saw Joey shaking his head and it looked like he was speaking to someone.

Regretting my decision to let him go I decided I had better see who he was talking to. It somehow seemed a bit odd.

Before I had got half way to him I saw the bear like black shape rear up and hearing a high-pitched yelp watched as the dog was enveloped in a black mist before disappearing without another sound. In disbelief I called his name but there was nothing there, no sign of him. Joey was screaming and crying as he ran back to me.

”Dad, dad, what’s happened to Sandy?”

“It’s okay son, he’s probably fallen down a rabbit hole,” I tried to comfort him, we’ll get you back home and then I will come back to look for Sandy.

I could see he was unconvinced but could think of no other explanation to give him, better I thought to get him home to his mother.

So that’s why I’m out in the middle of this field waiting for a couple of friends to start the search for Sandy. But who’s going to believe this?

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Three Line Tales, Week 113

 

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It had been a day just like any other, as we sped across the city in the corporation- liveried  tram on our regular journey home.

Settling down with my e-reader on my lap, head swaying in time to the rhthym of the rails when with a lurch the tram had come to a screeching halt, four miles an hour to dead stop in less than thirty seconds.

Arms gesticulating wildly the driver turned around in his seat and with a voice that expressed the agony of a lost soul exclaimed, “Well, would you look at that, for three months I’ve been driving these trams and today someone paints a white line between the rails, sorry everyone but I can’t cross that, it’s against the rules!”

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COLLEEN’S 2018 #TANKA TUESDAY #POETRY CHALLENGE NO. 77: CHARM & TIME, #SYNONYMSONLY

The old woman said

that there is only one way

to remove a wart

bury a toad before dawn

it will be gone by sunset

 

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RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #192 Slim&Chance

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The pickings were slim

down at the Last Chance saloon

but no one folded

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