Glorious – Daily Prompt

Flavius laughed as he took the long handled spear from the older man.  “Honestly, what are you like” he replied “you don’t really think he’s the son of god do you?”

“I’m not doing it ” insisted Octavio, thrusting the spear into the hand of the younger legionnaire. “You can do it, my sister has been going on about this fellow for some time and she will not forgive me if I start getting all stabby with him.”

Flavius laughed as he took the long handled spear from the older man.  “Honestly, what are you like” he replied “you don’t really think he’s the son of god do you?”

They both looked up at the bedraggled man hanging on the cross in front of them.  He really wasn’t having a very good day.

“And besides” Flavius continued, “do you really think giving him a bit of a poke in the side with a spear is any worse than nailing him to a cross?  You didn’t seem to mind a bit of hammering earlier”

Octavio shoved the younger man “Just shut up will you” he said rather annoyed.  The thought of his sister finding out about his role in this whole affair had him feeling rather on edge.

“You don’t know my sister okay, once she gets a bee in her bonnet about something she is most persistent.  No one saw me nailing anyone to anything, I just don’t want to be doing any stabbing okay.”

Flavius shook his head.  “I really do think that you ought to worry less about what your sister thinks and worry more about keeping that lot at bay” he said,  motioning to a small crowd that had gathered not too far off.  “They look like they might try something.  We had a lot try and rescue a chap a while back – one of the lads lost a couple of fingers.”

Octavio really didn’t think they looked like any bother at all and looked up at the man on the cross.  Blood ran down his face where the crown of thorns he was wearing had dug into his flesh.  “Listen mate” Octavio said shuffling nervously, his sister had seemed pretty convinced about this fellow.  “I really am sorry about this you know – just following orders and all that.”

The man grimaced and he turned his head to look at the legionnaire.  He attempted to speak, but could manage only a whisper.  “May I ask of you a favour” he said, his eyes dark and his lips dry and cracked.

Octavio looked around an noticed that Flavius was watching the people gathered some way off.

“If I can, I suppose” he muttered quietly not wanting to be heard.

“Will you give a message to my dad for me?”

Octavio nodded.  He did not intend to but it was the least he could do after nailing him to a cross.  The man on the cross really did not look in a very good way at all.  He grimaced in agony as the thick iron nails tore into his flesh.

“Tell him I’m still not tidying my bedroom…”

 


Something else?

Sparrow and Snake #writephoto

Musings

Fly me to the moon – Sunday photo fiction

 


 

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/glorious/

 

 

 

 

 

A generous portion of life – #Writephoto Challenge

For a while he lay there looking up at the light.  “It really is quite pretty” he thought, “I should get one like that for the hall at home.”

I’m cheating a tad on this and using it for 2 prompts.  I had the idea from Michelle’s writing prompt which I have decided to use to write about robots and such,  but it never really worked until I saw Sue’s photo prompt.
———————————————

The first thought that went through Terence’s mind as he opened his eyes was “What a lovely light,  it almost feels like I’m underwater.”  This thought was soon followed by a second which considered why the devil he might be lying on the floor and a third one hot on the heels of the second which pondered where exactly he might be.

He attempted to move but nothing happened.  His eyes seemed to be working just fine but beyond that nothing else did what it was meant to. Not one thing.

“Well this is just no good” he said to himself, “this simply will not do at all.”

He strained again but still nothing.

For a while he lay there looking up at the light.  “It really is quite pretty” he thought, “I should get one like that for the hall at home.”

In an instant something about the word home triggered an explosion of memories and emotions inside of him.  He was suddenly overwhelmed by a lifetime of experiences flashing before his eyes, and it all started with her.  She was present in almost every thought and every memory.  She seemed to have been there from the very beginning but for some reason he could not recall her name.  He could feel her touch and he could hear her voice , and she was all at once a stranger and so very familiar.

There were children too, and grand children.  Birthdays, holidays, Christmas and so so much love and laughter.  There was a little house by the sea, and a dog that always barked when the gate creaked.  Memory after memory washed over him as he lay there looking at the ceiling, and as they flashed by she became older, yet no less beautiful.

In between the laughter there were tears, and the cold darkness of solitude and yet always the laughter and the love would return and each time he would see her smiling face.  A great sadness overcame him as he saw her laid to rest, her coffin laid into the ground on a cold grey day.  Terence lay quite still and enjoyed the intensity of each moment until, at last, he remembered how he got here, where he was and why he was looking at the ceiling.

And then there was nothing.

The Engineer crouched over Terence and ran a scanner across his forehead.  He spoke into a small receiver embedded in his grey coverall collar.

“Base 9, this is Henderson, I have found the synth and can confirm that shut down has completed.”

“And what is his Status?” came a response.

Henderson double checked the dial.  “I can confirm that the unit has reached end of life cycle and his memories have successfully downloaded to central.”

“Good work Henderson” came the response, “We will format the content and pass it onto the family, seems the owner’s kids were pretty fond of the unit and have asked for the memories.”

“Copy that.”

 


Something else perhaps?

Illusionary Dreams: Writing prompt 13/9/2017

The end of times

I tried to say goodbye.

 

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

Your lunchtime limerick 19/9/17

Another day another limerick.

On losing one’s faith.

 

A handsome poor priest name of Chad

Found that boobies they made him most glad 

So he gave up the life 

Found a super hot wife 

With big lips, curvy hips and rich dad 

 

Tomorrow…something about Pork…

 

 

 


Want more stuff?  I have lots of stuff…

Sparrow and Snake #writephoto

Faeries: The long winter

More tea vicar ? 

Image courtesy of  me

Ronovans Weekly Haiku Challenge

Another week another Haiku challenge which I do rather enjoy.  this week the words to use are TOUCH and MISS.  I might try a few things.

Another week another Haiku challenge which I do rather enjoy.  this week the words to use are TOUCH and MISS.  I might try a few things.

How about a 3-5-3 haiku to start.

You left me

How I miss your touch

I hate you

Okay, now the good old 5-7-5. Perhaps a variation on the first.

 

How I miss your touch

Taliban cut your hands off

your hooks freak me out

 

Tanka perhaps, as a variation on the previous piece?

How I miss your touch

Taliban cut your hands off

your hooks freak me out

Up a bit, now left a bit

right there that’s it now scratch hard

 


https://ronovanwrites.com/2017/09/18/ronovanwrites-weekly-haiku-poetry-prompt-challenge-167-touchmiss/

Charlie’s Journey – OWPC Challenge

Charlie did so enjoy elephants.

Each night Charlie’s dad would tuck him up tight in bed, kiss his head gently and with a “sleep well Charlie” he would turn out the light and pull the door almost closed, leaving it ever so slightly ajar to allow the light from the hall to dilute the darkness just a little.

Charlie would lie quite still until he heard his dad’s footsteps trail away and, unless he was particularly tired, he would grab his torch and his favourite books and head under the blanket to escape to fantastical other worlds and far away places.

Tonight, however, was different.  Tonight Charlie was not under his blanket, instead he stood with his ear to the door, listening for the familiar sounds of his parents chatting in their bedroom until everything went quiet and he knew they were fast asleep.

As quietly as he could Charlie grabbed his rucksack from his wardrobe, and into it he pushed his Torch, a notebook and pen, his favourite teddy – Winston, a compass, some clean socks and the blue woolly hat his grandmother had knotted him for his birthday. “Perfect things for an adventure” he said to himself under his breath.

Quickly and quietly he dressed, and with his bag on his back and his shoes in his hands he tiptoed out of the room and along the hall until he came to his parents bedroom.

The door was open, and he could hear his father snoring inside.

He couldn’t fall at the first hurdle he told himself, there was an adventure to be had and he had been planning it for quite some time, at least a week.  Dropping to his hands and knees, holding his breath, he crept along the floor as low and as quietly as he could to avoid being detected until he was past the open door without incident.

He breathed again as he slipped down the stairs, avoiding the creaky steps, and slipped into the kitchen.  He took a small bar of chocolate from the treat drawer, 2 apples and a banana from the fruit bowl and a bottle of water from the fridge and added it to his bag and zipped it closed.  That should do for a few days he told himself, just long enough for him to find more food along the way.

After slipping on his shoes, struggling a little to do the laces – mum always helped with the laces – he grabbed his coat from the hook near the door, pulled it on and then put on his now rather heavy backpack.  He took a deep breath.  This was it.

He reached for the key in the door, and was about to turn it then remembered the note.  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small handwritten letter which was folded in half and on the front he had written “To Mum and Dad”.  Inside it explained that he was going on an adventure, but not to worry because he was a big boy now and that he would be back in a few days once he had seen an elephant.  Charlie did like elephants.

Charlie returned to the kitchen, popped the note on the counter top and headed quietly back to the front door.  Turning the key ever so slowly the lock clicked and he pulled on the handle, not daring to breathe in case he was heard.  He stood motionless, listening for any noise from upstairs.

No noise came.

He pulled on the handle, the door swinging just wide enough for him to pass through and he felt the cold night air on his face as he slipped outside, pulling the door closed as quietly as he could.

“This is it Charlie” he said to himself, “the beginning of a great adventure”, and with that he walked off down the garden path into the night.  Reaching the old wooden gate at the end of the path he looked up, the sky full of more stars than he remembered seeing before.  It was so very very dark.  He suddenly felt rather alone.

Across the street Charlie noticed an old man in a long brown coat walking a small white dog.  It was Mr Morley and Chops, the man who owned the corner shop.  Chops barked eagerly when he saw him and Charlie was just quick enough to duck down behind the gate before my Morley turned to see what Chops was making such a fuss about.

“Calm yourself Chops” said Mr Morley as the passed down the street “People are sleeping”.

Charlie’s heart raced as he let out a long sigh.  This was far scarier than he had thought it might be.  “Come on Charlie” he said to himself getting up off the ground, “you want to see that elephant don’t you.”  He stood at the gate and listened to the sounds of the night. Far off he could hear more dogs barking there was the unmistakable sound of a police siren not too far away.

Charlie wasn’t too fond of dogs.  Or police cars, the sirens heart his ears.

Charlie scratched his head, then looked back at the house.  The landing light shone gold through the upstairs window and he could just make out the familiar pattern of space ships on his bedroom curtains in the darkness.

With a sudden change of heart Charlie raced back down the path, and opening the door hurried inside and pushed it closed.  He stood breathing heavily with his back to the door and then raced back upstairs, as quietly as he could, back to his bedroom – not stopping to crawl past his parents open door – and slipped into his room.   With his bag still on his back and his shoes still on his feer he jumped back into bed and pulled the blankets tight around his ears, only his eyes peering out.

The light from the hall was suddenly obscured by the familiar silhouette of his father.  “Are you okay Charlie” he asked, “what are you doing up?”

“I just went to the toilet” Charlie replied.

“I told you drinking that hot chocolate would have you up in the night” his father said and smiled, “back to sleep okay.”

Charlie nodded as his father turned to leave the room.

“Dad” he said.

“Yes charlie?” his father replied.

“Can we go to the zoo to see an elephant?” Charlie asked.

His father laughed.  “Of course” he answered, “now get back to sleep.”

 


Want something a bit different? Try these…

 

Screw you, one and all.

Family #writephoto

99 Word Challenge – Sound

 


wp-image-1954345006

https://jennifernicholewells.com/2017/09/17/this-weeks-challenges-september-17-23-owpc-ww/

 

 

 

 

 

 

Your lunchtime limerick 18/9/17

Another day another limerick.

 

It was suggested I do some saccharin sweet limericks…Ill give it a try I guess.  Feels a bit weird to be honest.

To my children

Each morning I look at your smiles

even though you both put us through trials

how your mother she bore you

I simply adore you

so does mum though you did give her piles

 

that could be a hallmark moment!

 


Want more stuff?  I have lots of stuff…

Sparrow and Snake #writephoto

Faeries: The long winter

More tea vicar ? 

Image courtesy of  me

Motivational Monday

In England they were chopping off peoples heads for not liking the right type of Jesus…

Turn on the television and you might think it was the end of the world.  I don’t care for religion but know plenty for whom it is most fulfilling and some of them seem rather excited by the prospect of it being the end of days and disappearing into the clouds.

Theres that orange American maniac picking a scrap with that quite ludicrous Korean buffoon, we have terrorists running amok with a new story of some sort of attack in London every few weeks and there are storms with rather unusual names bearing down on one place or another whenever I choose to pay attention to the news.

So, this got me to thinking – is it now really worse than it ever was or have things always been this way?  I figured the best way to answer this was some research and a considered response, and then I changed my mind almost immediately and decided to base this whole piece on conjecture and supposition.

So – what conclusion did I come to I don’t hear you ask.  Well, I think mostly no, it isn’t worse that it ever was  – in fact I think the world’s a better place, or at least no worse that it has been for many a year.

Terrorists?  Oh please, we have always had terrorists and people happy to chop off  other people’s heads for one god or another.  Remember the Crusades?  Only difference is that we can live stream if via Facebook now so more people are aware of it.

War?  I am certain that anyone who might whip u graph of conflict across the ages would prove my assertion that it’s probably no worse now in terms of one lot of people who want to do something beastly to another lot of people for mostly no reason at all.

Terrible things that happen to children?  You think the awful things that have happened to kids only started in the 50’s and 60’s?  How do you think your chimneys used to get cleaned?  Small hands make light work indeed.  Paedophilia isn’t a recent phenomenon I am certain, it’s just out in the open and no longer swept under the carpet.

Global warming?  Okay I might give you that one – though if the Donald is to be believed you’re wrong on that point too.

I quite like the world I live in, though I am a white middle aged male living in suburban England.  I am not a pot bellied starving African with a face full of flies so I may have to give you that one too though I bet if I wasn’t so lazy I could find evidence that says it’s been pretty horrid in parts of Africa and other places for as long as we can remember.  At least now we try and help out and we write catchy Christmas songs to raise money to feed the starving.

People may well be fleeing Africa for the promised land of Europe but it is not that long ago that we were fleeing Europe for America because all of our potatoes had gone a bit manky and in England they were chopping off peoples heads for not liking the right type of Jesus…

And do not get me started on how great smart phones are or the ability to stream Netflix in the depths of inner Mongolia whilst or just how brilliant all the different types of Oreo cookies are.

The world really isn’t all that bad I reckon, and I am pretty sure that if I did some real research I would prove that it used to be pretty rubbish for most people in the last 2000 years.  Maybe its now just not as rubbish for more people that it used to be.

I might be wrong but I am too ignorant to ever find out…


 

More stuff?  I have a lot of stuff if you fancy it…

I don’t have a dog called Caper – Daily prompt

Bernard and Charles – Daily prompt

Partner – Daily prompt

 

photo courtesy of photoshopper24 @ pixabay

Your lunchtime limerick 17/9/17

Another day another limerick.

A jolly fat bellied chap , Nick

Christmas Eve of the children got sick

so he went to the pub

had some drinks and some grub

cancelled Christmas next day, what a dick

 

 


Want more stuff?  I have lots of stuff…

Sparrow and Snake #writephoto

Faeries: The long winter

More tea vicar ? 

Image courtesy of  me

Your lunchtime limerick 16/9/17

Another day another limerick.

 

A limerick, at lunchtime.  The clue’s in the title really…

 

A hillbilly chap, quite obese

one day coverered his sister in grease

from her toes to her head

then he took her to bed

she gave birth to his daughter and niece

 

maybe another incest based limerick because they fun

 

I once went to school with a lad

who had a quite young looking dad

turned out his mums lover

was his hot older brother

that’s just wrong, quite disturbing and mad

 

Anyway, have a good Saturday, not going to be writing much else today got a lot to do…

 


Want more stuff?  I have lots of stuff…

Sparrow and Snake #writephoto

Faeries: The long winter

More tea vicar ? 

Image courtesy of  me

Screw you, one and all.

Its probably wholly inappropriate and in rather poor taste. I’d not read it really.

To Everybody

I write this letter with some regret, though not much if I am to be honest.

I, Kris Kringle, hereby tender my resignation and would notify all concerned that I will be ceasing all and any Christmas related activities henceforth and with immediate effect.

Though there are many reasons for this decision, and it is not one that I take lightly, I have for the most part simply had enough and fancy a bit of a change.

The magic of Christmas seems now lost on so many and I no longer feel the support of the people I have for so long served, and I believe they would be best served by Amazon or Ebay or maybe just sending a really nice card or a letter saying something nice you don’t really mean.

The main reason though is the recent controversy my actions have attracted.  As I have repeated publicly on a number of occasions, and I would again insist right now, Elves are not children –  despite their stature.  The incident of March the 3rd this year so widely reported in the media was consensual and under the supervision of Mrs Kringle herself who is rather fond of that sort of thing.

I still contend strongly that there should be no bias against human elf relations.  I do not recall such an outcry when Aragorn and Arwen declared their love for one another, and they most certainly did not have to contend with people prying into their homes with long range telescopic lenses.  With hindsight perhaps we should have closed the curtains, but I am old fashioned and still believe in respecting the privacy of others – despite my day job.

Due to this hypocrisy, I must now work under the scrutiny of child services until they are satisfied that the welfare of my elves is no longer a matter for concern, and this is not a something that I am willing to tolerate for one day longer.

Whilst I accept that I am a public figure, what happens between consenting men and elves should be their business alone.  Despite the disapproval of so many sections of society it comforts me that I have found acceptance in some of the more niche communities on the dark web and my wife and I are proud of the fact that we are now widely attributed with being the creators of the “Upside Down Elvish Spit Roast” and the “Pixie Pile Driver”.

I know the children will be disappointed, but their demands have become most unreasonable in recent years and where once there was joy in building toys for them and seeing their little faces light up on Christmas morning these days we are mostly subcontracting to shoddy far east electrical suppliers who use child labour.  Whilst it is true that small hands make light work,  on balance I am probably doing children a favour.

I hope that you are able to secure a replacement for my position, perhaps the Chines might fancy it – they have the manpower and distribution channels I am sure.  For me, I am going to take a few weeks off and catch up on Game of Thrones and then my intention is to open a vape shop in California.  If you ever fancy a new bong or an electric cigarette pop by, I’ll do you a great deal.

Best Regards

KK

 

 


Photo courtesy of free-photos @ pixabay

Your lunchtime limerick 15/9/17

Another day another limerick.

 

A limerick, at lunchtime.  The clue’s in the title really…

A sturdy young chap, Roger black

Hard liquor each night he knocked back

Young vibrant and bold

But then he got old

Now he’s fat and addicted to crack

 


Want more stuff?  I have lots of stuff…

Sparrow and Snake #writephoto

Faeries: The long winter

More tea vicar ? 

 

Image courtesy of  me

The limericks I don’t usually publish

Move along, nothing to see and certainly not for kids.

For every limerick I write there is usually another I discard because it is inappropriate, childish, vulgar, twisted or just not the sort of things I would want my kids to stumble upon.

Today I will publish a few because I am in the sort of mood, and it’s the weekend and what are weekends for if not inappropriate limericks.  I had something of a request for more erotic asphyxiation stuff earlier this week.  I know I know, but there’s no accounting for the tastes of people.  

 

A conservative preacher, John Stead

Man of god but quite kinky in bed

by the cleaner discovered

bound, naked and buggered

Purple faced, plastic bag on his head

 

A plumber from Goole well endowed

love to take off his clothes in a crowd

and the ladies he’d please

as it hung to his knees

hand on hips, legs akimbo, so proud

 

A vicar from Grimsby most hated

spent a celibate life most frustrated

unless you count the young boys

who he used as his toys

’till they caught him and now hes castrated

 


Something more pleasant?

Ooh look at me being all topical!

Faeries: The long winter

Fences – FFfAW Challenge – 11th of July

 


photo courtesy of hypnoart at pixabay

 

My neighbour Ifraheem

Ifraheem was a quiet and unassuming man, very much like any of your neighbours I would imagine.

A flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers photo challenge.  Take the photo, write something in 100-150 words.  Simple apparently…


“Aah Mrs Fazal” said Ifraheem as the courtyard door swung open, “come in please, it’s so good to see you.”

” I just wanted to pay my respects” she said placing a hand on Ifraheem’s arm.

“Why thank you” Ifraheem replied, putting down the watering can, “It has indeed been too long, what a relief it was when the police eventually declared her deceased.”

“You have endured much” Mrs Fazal continued, “But I see you have taken good care of her flowers.  They’ve never looked so well.”

“She would often joke that she preferred her flowers to people” he said, his smile now a little less broad.

Mrs Fazal nodded in agreement as Ifraheem bent down and picked a few fallen leaves and debris from the one of the pots closest to him.

“Well I must be off” she said, “perhaps we could have tea sometime soon?”

Ifraheem felt in his pocket for the small finger bone he had plucked from the pot.  “I would like that very much” he said as she turned and left.

175 Words 

 


More?  Go on try something different…

99 Word Challenge – Sound

Badger and Fox

Farmer and Dog

 

http://www.inlinkz.com/new/view.php?id=736996

 

 

Your lunchtime limerick 14/9/17

Another day another limerick.

 

A limerick, at lunchtime.  The clue’s in the title really…

A cuddly bus driver from cleaves

was beset by a posse of thieves

stole his clothes, bus and phone

left him stranded alone

and his modesty covered by leaves

 


Want more stuff?  I have lots of stuff…

Sparrow and Snake #writephoto

Faeries: The long winter

More tea vicar ? 

 

Image courtesy of  me

Illusionary Dreams: Writing prompt 13/9/2017

He searched his memories but there was never anything there other than a whisper calling out, and within minutes the thoughts disappeared like morning fog and he fell back asleep.

A word prompt courtesy of  michelle at ‘Putting my feet in the dirt’.

I have the prompt words, then I found a picture, now I need even more words.  I might limit myself to 125 words for this one.  Stops me waffling.  Nice and concise.


Every night for the last week at 3am it was the same thing.   Enoch awoke from his sleep, the same dream filling his senses and causing him to stir into life.  Hands that were his but not reached for a face that reminded him of someone he used to be, or perhaps it was someone who he once knew but was now long forgotten.

He searched his memories but there was never anything there other than a whisper calling out, and within minutes the thoughts disappeared like morning fog and he fell back asleep.

Karen waited for him to nod off then picked up her phone and called the maintenance team.

“Yes, its my sexbot” she said, quite annoyed, “It keeps dropping out of the spoon cycle”

127 words


More?  Maybe try one of these

Sunday Photo Fiction

Badger and Fox

More tea vicar ? 


Photo courtesy of pixabay

 

https://puttingmyfeetinthedirt.com/2017/09/01/september-writing-prompts/

 

Heart and Window – TJ’s household Haiku

Today I bring you not 1, but 3 mediocre haiku in response to TJ’s challenge.

Today I bring you not 1, but 3 mediocre haiku!

 

Brave window cleaner

Poor man, his heart in his mouth

Curtains left open

 

Oh heart, fickle friend

open window, thieves sneak in

ransacked and ruined

 

still my beating heart

eyes the windows on the soul

How I  love cliches


Fancy something else?

Abandoned – Daily prompt

We unlikely few – An Armitage tangent

You absolute tanka!

 

https://amaviedecoeurentier.wordpress.com/2017/09/09/tjs-household-haiku-13/

Colleen’s Weekly #Poetry Challenge No. 50 #Haiku #Tanka #Haibun: VOICE & WATCH

My weekly assault of the gentle art of Japanese poetry

This week i shall attempt a haiku, a tanka and a haibun.

 

New shiny smart watch

controlling it with my voice 

Looking  like a knob 

 

Not a bad start.  Now lets tanka it up shall we

New shiny smart watch

controlling it with my voice

the king of the geeks!

You know you’re not on Star Trek

Wife looking quite embarrassed

 

True story…

 

How about we go full haibun.  Well as best as I can muster.  Still working on this element.  Poem, Prose, Poem for this one.

New shiny smart watch

controlling it with his voice

the king of the geeks!

You know you’re not on Star Trek

Wife looking quite embarrassed

 

But proud he stands, connected.  One with his devices.  He is man and he is confident – legs akimbo with hands on hips waiting patiently for her to emerge from the changing rooms and to see him with renewed eyes.  He feels taller, chin up, eyes bright as lesser men scurry laden with bags disconnected and alone.  But not he, not today.   Today is his day, and tonight he will delight her because he is connected and he feels alive.

Candles, wine, music

Children fast asleep in bed

warm breath on her neck

“Bloody hell you’re scratching me,

now you’ve laddered my stockings!”

 

Well I guess its something…sorry Japan

 


Here you go …something different.

Playground – Daily prompt

Ichabod the first

Partner – Daily prompt

 


https://colleenchesebro.com/2017/09/12/colleens-weekly-poetry-challenge-no-50-haiku-tanka-haibun-voice-watch/


photo courtesy of Thorr_deichmann at pixabay

Your lunchtime limerick 13/9/17

Another day another limerick.

A skinny young postman called pat

Who could eat but could never get fat

Pies and cakes, buns and sweets,

vegetables, breads and meats

Had a tapeworm you see, fancy that

 


Want more stuff?  I have lots of stuff…

Sparrow and Snake #writephoto

Faeries: The long winter

More tea vicar ? 

 

Image courtesy of  me

Mouse and Cat

The rain had been falling all for days, pitter patter against the window panes of the old farm house. Cat stared out at the grey sky and decided that she would most certainly not be going outside.

The rain had been falling all for days, pitter patter against the window panes of the old farm house.  Cat stared out at the grey sky and decided that he would most certainly not be going outside.   He did not like the rain one little bit, and nothing would shift him – not even the little mouse he could see scurrying about at the edge of the log pile.

The fire crackled as the fat bottomed girl walked past.

“I don’t blame you for not going out “ She said, stroking cat behind the ears, “I’d stay inside if I was you too.”

Cat yawned and stretched himself out on the window ledge as the fat bottomed girl pulled on her coat and wellington boots and headed outside into the rain.  The door banged closed and Cat watched her disappear across the farm yard, past the log pile where mouse hid beneath an old stump and towards the barns where the cows would be huddled together ready to be milked.

Cat closed his eyes listening to the rain and was soon fast asleep.

As Cat slept mouse scurried across the yard from puddle to puddle, making her way between the log pile and the old farm house.  She scuttled up the small tree next to the window behind which cat was now fast asleep, and dropped lightly onto the window sill.

Mouse did so enjoy the rain because she knew full well that cat would not venture outside when the weather was so miserable.  She had once seen cat caught in a downpour and how she had laughed and laughed as cat hurtled back to the farm house, desperate to get inside only to discover that he had been locked out.  What a bedraggled dripping mess he was indeed.

As cat slept, mouse watched Cat closely from the safety of the other side of the window.  Never before had mouse been so close to a cat.

“What a curious creature” mouse said to herself, whiskers twitching.  She pressed her nose up against the glass to get a better look.  “Doesn’t look so scary to me.”

Cat stirred and opened one eye to see mouse staring straight at him.  As the rain fell the large Ginger cat and the small brown mouse stared at each other, neither moving.  Cat’s tail then twitched ever so slightly as mouse wrinkled her nose and then spoke.

“Good morning Cat” she said, but cat could not hear her through the glass and above the noise of the rain.

Cat opened both eyes and sat upright.  Mouse shifted nervously but remained on the window sill, perhaps feeling brave because of the glass that separated them.

Mouse stood up on her hind feet and stared at cat.  “Don’t look so scary to me” she said “I don’t see what all the fuss is about.”

Cat licked his lips and swished his tail, head to one side wondering what this mouse might be saying.  Did she not know who he was, did she not realise that he was rather fond of plump little mice?

Mouse dropped back onto all fours and seemed to parade up and down on the window sill as the rain continued to fall even heavier.

“You don’t scare me cat” mouse shouted, tapping on the glass with a tiny paw.  “this is my farm yard” she insisted and continued to scurry up and down the window sill feeling most brave, stopping only occasionally to pull faces at cat or wiggle her bottom at him.

Cat continued to watch mouse as she paraded up and down in front of him, his tail swishing and his whiskers bristling.  He saw the fat bottomed girl emerge from the milking sheds and head back across the farm yard as the rain began to lessen.  Mouse was so preoccupied that she did not seem to notice.

“That’s it” cat said to himself, “just a little closer”.

The fat bottomed girl was nearly at the door before mouse heard her, the rain now almost stopped.

Cat leapt from the window sill as the door opened, and in a flash mouse realised what was about to happen and darted for the tree next to the window, her heart beating frantically.  As the door opened cat rocketed across the farm house floor, past the crackling fire and out of the door just as mouse reached the foot of the tree.

Mouse knew she had but a moment to get to the log pile, and cat was closing in on her fast.  She skirted a small puddle as cat splashed across the yard heading for her, eyes wide and an intent and savage look on his face.

“Run mouse, run” she shouted to herself “he’s coming!”

Cat leapt through the air, paws outstretched and claws out as mouse lunged into the log pile.  Cat flew into a rather large stump and crashed to the ground, shaking his head.

“I know you’re in there!” he said as mouse crawled deeper into the pile.  “It’s only a matter of time Mrs Mouse” he continued, “you cannot stay in there all day.”

“I’m not scared of you” mouse squeaked, though she most obviously was, but it was starting to rain again and she knew cat would not remain outside long.

As the rain began to fall the fat bottomed girl opened the door and called cat inside, and he raced off to the warmth of the farm house.  As mouse emerged from the log pile, she looked back at the house and saw cat sitting in the window cleaning himself.

“I’m not scared of you cat “ she shouted as she scuttled back to her home, “and I am not afraid of the rain either!”


More stuff perhaps?

Fatties in space – not one for the kiddies

Screw You Haiku 11/9/17

The intergalactic language of tea – Daily Prompt

Mouse and Sparrow


photo courtesy of alexas_fotos@pixaba

RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #165 Passion&Play

So the deal is simple.  Write a Haiku and use the words passion and play.

So the deal is simple.  Write a Haiku and use the words passion and play.  


Seductive haiku

use the words passion and play

it might get dirty

 

I think that’s probably cheating…

 

Dark passion released

do you want to play a game

asphixiated

 

hey, it isn’t easy trying to fit erotic asphixiation into a haiku…

 

Passions smouldering

his phone beeps, its another

don’t play with her heart

 

I’m sure I can come up with something more pleasant.

 

All encompassing

his passion knows no limits

plays him for a fool

 

Seems not eh ;).  Someone else can write about flowers and sweet nothings and maybe easter. 


Fancy something different?

Not a piece about Dr Who – Honest – Sunday Photo Fiction.

Badger and Fox

99 Word Challenge – Sound

 

RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #165 Passion&Play

Your lunchtime limerick 12/9/17

Another day another limerick.

Proof that the limerick form can make sad things less so. 

 

A chubby young fellow called Giles

Got a rather bad case of the piles

Doc said “Don’t be so glum –

pop this cream in your bum,

’till they’re gone just sit carefully and smile

 

 


Want more stuff?  I have lots of stuff…

Sparrow and Snake #writephoto

Faeries: The long winter

More tea vicar ? 

 

Image courtesy of  me

Screw You Haiku 11/9/17

A little light haiku relief…

Proof that haiku do not always have to be serious…

 

The life of the clown

by day bringing joy, by night

he’s under your bed

 

night time toilet trip

lights out, think I saw a clown

run back to bed scared

 

Long hair and tight jeans

he watches her walk and lusts

bugger, it’s a bloke!

 

hot tea before bed

up three times throughout the night

Damn old man’s bladder!

 

One drink after work

woke up in the back garden

bloody sambuca!

 


More stuff?  Ive tons and tons of stuff!

Jeffrey and Cho – FFFAW Challenge

Lion and Zebra – Daily Prompt – Hidden

Probing – a cautionary tale – Daily prompt

 

 

Your lunchtime limerick 11/9/17

Another day another limerick.

Been a bit busy of late so best I can muster is …another lunch time limerick.  Proof that the limerick form can make sad things less so. 

 

Lovely fellow was left at the alter

loved her still So he just would not fault her

She ran off with her lover

then got aids from another

and then died late last year in Gibralter

 


Want more stuff?  I have lots of stuff…

Sparrow and Snake #writephoto

Faeries: The long winter

More tea vicar ? 

 

Image courtesy of  me

Your lunchtime limerick 10/9/17

Another day another limerick.

Another day another lunch time limerick. 

 

She’s quite gender fluid my gran

so this week she’s being a man

she looks ever so weird

with her moustache and beard

insisting we call her nan Stan

 


Want more stuff?  I have lots of stuff…

Sparrow and Snake #writephoto

Faeries: The long winter

More tea vicar ? 

 

Image courtesy of  me

Your lunchtime limerick 9/9/17

Another day another limerick.

Another day another lunch time limerick. 

 

A cheeky young lass from Djabouti

buxom, curvaceous, such beauty

she was caught in the park

with a ginger lad, mark

who brought sausage and whipped cream, so fruity!

 


Want more stuff?  I have lots of stuff…

Sparrow and Snake #writephoto

Faeries: The long winter

More tea vicar ? 

 

Image courtesy of  pixabay