A 10-minute story on the theme of ‘Time’ #LWG

LWG – 10-minute exercise 18/08/2018

‘Time’

Every second, once used, was carefully added to the waste heap; which was eternally teetering precariously above the town.

Jonathan Moment the Three Thousand and Thirty-Seventh checked the books. All seemed to be in order. The cumulative effect of the generations upon his stock-taking (which he liked to call his tick-tock-taking) had been a gradual thing; and, as his father used to say (and his father’s father had also said the same thing to his son and so on back through the ages) ‘time waits for no man!’ Which was highly unoriginal after thirty-seven generations of Moments had passed one second (which had carefully moved from the future to the present) along to the waste heap outside of the village boundary.

The fear the townspeople subconsciously had was that the gigantic heap of waste seconds would topple over and time would come crashing back down upon them; but, this never having done so in the past, why should it do so any time soon?

But, ‘time waits for no man’, and so Jonathan had to keep a constant watch upon the seconds as they were individually added to the mountainous structure, noting them down in his ledger as they were popped on to the top.

Jonathan’s wife was a patient lady. She didn’t see much of Jonathan because of his hereditary career; but, she spent her days working in her Herb Garden where she grew thyme. Her name was Rosemary.

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‘The Toe-in-the-Water’ Radio Show sketch – Out The Window #3

Out The Window’ sketch #3

SFX Out The Window Theme Tune Intro

Voice 1: What are you doing

Voice 2: I’m looking out the window.

Voice 1: Out the window!

Voice 2: Yes.

Voice 1: Oh. (pause) What are you looking at out the window?

Voice 2: I am looking out the window at the beautiful day. And… I have written a song about it.

Voice 1: A song? About the beautiful day? Out the window?

Voice 2: Yes. A song. About the beautiful day. Out the window.

Voice 1: Can you sing the song to me? The one about the beautiful day. Out the window.

Voice 2: Yes. I can. And I shall.

‘It’s a beautiful day…

a beautiful day…

beautiful day…

day…’

Voice 1: Ooh! That was a lovely song about the beautiful day out the window.

Voice 2: Thank you.

Voice 1: I have also written a song.

Voice 2: You have?

Voice 1: I have.

Voice 2: Is it a song about the beautiful day out the window?

Voice 1: No.

Voice 2: No?

Voice 1: No. It is a song about the lovely day out the window.

Voice 2: Ooh! Are you going to sing your song about the lovely day out the window?

Voice 1: I shall.

‘It’s a lovely day…

a lovely day…

lovely day…

day…

Voice 2: That is a beautiful song about a lovely day out the window, that is.

Voice 1: Thank you.

Both: Day…

SFX Out The Window Theme tune outro.

On my hearing of the passing of MC

On my hearing of the passing of MC

So, that was Monday,

this is Tuesday;

waiting in the wings

are Wednesday and its friends;

the weeks go by,

the sequence never ends;

onwards into a future unknown,

as we, one by one,

fail to wake to greet another day.

G:(

A Wet Monday

A Wet Monday

A wet Monday –

perhaps being a wet Monday

rather than a wet Friday

makes it seem even wetter;

never mind

it shall be spent in honest pursuits;

and why wish one’s life away?

1-syllable to 10-syllable poem: Sky.

1-syllable to 10-syllable poem: Sky.

Now

and then

I look up;

what do I see?

I see sky above;

clouds passing on their way

to places that I know not;

there are birds flying here and there;

geese in rigid squadron formation;

honking instructions as to direction.

2 a.m. Poetry

2 a.m. Poetry

Too late

to think straight

never mind writing something great

or even coherent.

Nevertheless, I shall attempt to compose a poem, not prose,

in the form of free verse.

A Few Words re: The Devil

AFew Words re: The Devil

‘The Devil finds work

for idle hands’

said somebody

once.

Somebody else wrote it down – possibly not in English –

as it might not have originally been spoken in English, but another language,

Greek, perhaps. Or, possibly Latin.

Whichever,

somebody,

somewhen,

translated into English;

which is the version that we know – if we are English.