Monthly Archives: December 2018

A Winter (Gull)’s Tale

A Winter (Gull)’s Tale

A seagull once told me

that, although pasties taste nice,

it’s really the thrill of the chase

not the taste

that makes them think once –

and not twice –

about diving and swooping

on unsuspecting souls

who have purchased a pasty,

flaky sausage rolls.

or maybe just a cone of chips.

The Gull just dips his head

and off he goes

follows his beak

and with the smell up his nose

he flies over whelmed shores.

And, in one foul swoop…

… he’s coq-au-hoop!

“A Classic Poem for Centuries to Come?

“A Classic Poem for Centuries to Come?

One final poem

to end the year.

“Will it be a Haiku?”

Have no fear

it’s too long for that!

“Will it be a Tanka?”

No.

“A sonnet?”

No.

“Will it be recited fondly

in a hundred years’ time?”

No.

“So, not that good a poem, then?”

No. Not that good –

merely a few words in order put;

that were written by my fair hand,

or my left foot.

Glowing Embers

Glowing Embers

The last few embers of the dying year

are still just about glowing,

giving off little, if any,

light or warmth.

Soon all will be cleaned of the old soots

and, once cleaned, primed ready for the new year’s beginning.

✍🏻 Upon A Haiku

✍🏻 Upon A Haiku

A Haiku is short,

and takes little time to write

then it has gone. Quick.

Often it has rhyme;

even within such small space,

a morsel it is.

Having eaten one,

you may just want another,

or one may be fine.

When you read Haiku,

know that you must read deeply,

they are more than short.

Within each Haiku

there is a hidden message,

perhaps one of hope.

As, I now do know,

Haiku are not what they seem

from the view outside.

And they all must speak

words that we should learn to hear,

with our open ears.

Guitar Upon the Wall

Guitar Upon The Wall

The guitar hangs upon the wall

like a picture drawn a thousand times;

but, where is the use it needs to feel,

the lyric phrase, the quirky rhymes?

Strings, untuned, coated fine

with the dust of betrayal,

silently thrum to the tune

of an unheard song

from long, long ago;

when, or if, they shall play again

it’s beyond my knowledge to know.

Bedtime Haiku

Bedtime Haiku

My bedtime haiku

is not as tired as me;

but it’s a close thing.

In The Leaky Teapot (Episode 2)

Episode 1 of ‘In The Leaky Teapot’ here.

Today in The Leaky Teapot.

Just about one o’clock (going by the Broken Clock that has hung upon the far wall of The Leaky Teapot for over a decade signifying the time of ‘just about one o’clock) a number of customers decided to enter, leave or remain the premises of The Leaky Teapot.

Some of these customers ordered a Cream Tea (between them) and a fight ensued over the ownership of a scone. Finally, 97-year old Doris ‘Dotty’ Doddle held the offending item aloft. “My ‘Precious!” she proclaimed.

‘Dotty’ was rightly proud of the fact that she had purchased a first edition of The Hobbit upon it’s publication back on the 21st September, 1937. A copy she still regularly read, even though the story was ingrained upon her soul.

Sadly, over time, Dotty had come to believe that she was Gollum and sought to beat other customers of The Leaky Teapot at The Riddle Game.

She was just one of the characters of The Leaky Teapot.

#SoCS – ‘Ask somebody for a prompt’ Prompt @LindaGHill

#SoCS – ‘Ask somebody for a prompt’ Prompt @LindaGHill

See Here for Linda’s blog and info for #SoCS

‘Ask ‘somebody what my prompt is!”

Do you think I have prompt-buddies on speed dial? Is there an assistant that I can turn to?

“Ask somebody what my prompt is, Mr Daniels!” Without please or thank you.

I might pop to a neighbours and ask them what my prompt is – but, the hard of hearing and the hard of understanding won’t be much use to me in this dire emergency.

Hold a seance and ask the dead what my prompt is – mmmmm? Well, that may not work without a room full of gulls called Ibble. And the widgee board could be said to have been fixed. Knock once for ‘my prompt is ‘fire’!

And on it goes.

And I only have ten minutes from when I set the 10-minute timer to do all of this!

I’m on a strict deadline here, folks!

I need a prompt, and I need it now – or yesterday would be even better.

Where is it – I’ll check the post box, under the settee, behind the cooker… no, no, and a big fat NO!

None of those places is where my prompt is. Perhaps I. Oils just use last week’s and say that ‘I’m terribly sorry, but my house was ill and my cat fell down.’

That might work in some other,, less stringent, Universe – but not this one – Oh, no.

I shall just have to wing it and work on the basis that if I choose any old prompt there is a 1 in 50,000,009 chance of it being the one – it’s probably a better chance than that, but if you put 50,000,009 on a calculator and turn it upside down you will find the word ‘oooooo’ – now isn’t that interesting? Rhetorical! Question!

Oh, well, I shall have to admit the feet (de feet) and just await a proper prompt so that I can write a proper stream* of Consciousness Saturday piece.

G:)

*Is where my 10-minutes ended.

Tartare Sauce!

Tartare Sauce!

Does anyone care

whether it’s ‘tartar’

or ‘tartare’?

I swear upon the good book

(William Shakespeare’s First Folio)

that I do care.

It is, and will always be,

Tartare Sauce to me – so there!

Friday Morning Deliberations.

Friday Morning Deliberations.

Should I invest in a vest?

Or should I just give it a rest?

When all is said and pun…

if I do purchase a vest

should I wear it facing West?

I ask you,

in the hope of a definitive answer – and to get the question

off my chest.

Impressed?

No? I thought as much;

such is the way of things,

and any thought that has wings

may just fly

away.

You might have guessed.