Tag Archives: #soc

“Strain” #SoCS @LindaGHill

“Strain” #SoCS @LindaGHill

Linda’s site here for more info

“Strain my socks in a colander, dear.”

“A ‘please’ would be nice, ‘dear!’ “

“Please strain my socks in a colander, my angel.”

“Better.” a pause, “But, and I ask this not expecting a sensible answer, why?”

“Because my socks need straining.”

she looked at him from the safety of her ‘normal’ mind. “Oh, that’s alright then, I thought there was some ulterior motive.”

“No. I’ve not been outside all morning.”

“Ulterior! Not ‘exterior’, you numpty! Are you saying that you’ve got your socks wet ‘indoors?’ “

“That’s right. I was straining custard through them – to get the lumps out – and so I had to wash them in the sink. Now they need straining in a colander to get the soapy water out of them, what’s not sensible about that?”

“Shall I just say ‘custard’ and walk away in disbelief?”

“If you like.” he turned back to the semi-professional mud-wrestling on the TV, “Otherwise they’ll be damp when I put them back on.”

“You have other pairs of socks, you know?”

“Them’s me favrites!” he almost spat the words, “And they don’t have holes in heels or toes.”

Maud shook her head in mild amusement and slight bemusement, and reached for the colander.

“Thursday!” she commented. “As I live and breathe, I will never know what goes on in his mind on *Thursdays.”

—//—

*My 10-minute timer went off here.

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April The Eighteenth #SoC write.

April The Eighteenth #SoC write.

April The Eighteenth

I feel an April Fool;

all my ideas have run out,

and there are still many days to go.

No. There is nothing left in the pot

of mind;

leastways nothing that I can find.

Why doesn’t the Eighteenth

signify something… anything?

No. There is nothing.

Not one single, solitary crumb

left upon the plate.

How I hate

to be bereft,

with everything gone,

and nothing left.

Linda G Hill’ #SoCS Prompt ‘Dough / D’oh!’

Linda G Hill’ #SoCS Prompt ‘Dough / D’oh!’

Linda’s SoCS details here.

Through thick and thin

we moved within

never went without

and, in case there is any doubt,

left our cares within the bin.

We never borrowed,

so we did not owe;

made our own bread,

from our need for dough;

then made it so.

We helped our selves

to add to our shelves,

and he who delves

often finds

himself in two minds.

Though, it has been said,

if you are well bread,

then you can see your head,

from behind –

or is that all in the mind?

Looking back, as you would,

to seek the bad from the good,

you should always remember

the sixth of November

as being the day after

the fifth.

If this is inconvenient,

you might consider being lenient

when it comes to…

from a coma

or a comma

my punctuation

fills nobody with elation

across this nation,

it just amuses some,

amazes others,

and is totally ignored by the masses,

lower, middle and scupper classes.

“D’oh!” Is not a phrase that I will ever use in my writing.

Though, as you can hear, or see, it doesn’t work like that for me.

“D’oh!” Was used earlier. And then again, just then, when I repeated it for cosmic effect.

“Can you hear the songs of angry men?”

No?

It must be just me.

Anyway, I have to go now,

as I know that there is only so much of this Double Dutch that you can take – even though there is so much more of it that I could make – and my 10-minutes is nearly up – although last week, I stopped about a minute and a half early as I had run out of things to waffle iron on about – well, I certainly won’t be letting that happen again. Says I.

“D’oh!” *

*Timer went off here.

Blue-Sky Thinking

Blue-Sky Thinking

Picture and words here.

I am thinking about blue skies;

whilst looking at…

well, obviously, blue skies.

This is what I call

‘true’ blue-sky thinking.

I am not thinking about clouds –

due to their absence –

apart from my thoughts upon…

their absence.

This is not a ‘cloud’ poem.

If it is a poem.

Which it may be –

I am in no position to verify,

or qualify,

what it is that it may be –

I just write the words that forever stain the cleanliness of my screen.

#SoCS ‘The Last Piece of Mail I Received’. @LindaGHill

#SoCS ‘The Last Piece of Mail I Received’. @LindaGHill

See here for Linda’s prompt details

It wasn’t hate mail – that’s something;

it wasn’t a love letter, either;

so it must have been one of the other types of letter.

Twenty-six to choose from – I am quite certain, that it may possibly have been a ‘q’ – lower case; and, if that is the case…

Silly, I know, why would it have been a ‘q’? It could quite easily have been a ‘b’ buzzing round.

C what I did there? Actually, ‘I’ did nothing – a big, fat 0 a which is a zero and not an ‘O’. How could u have made that mistake? Perhaps your (or you’re) parrot (it was ‘your’) distracted u with a mis-timed squawk?

Perhaps.

Anyway, all these letters ‘r’ just ‘a’ means 2 an end – which is where we are at.

Solly the Dover Sole #SoCS @LindaGHill

Solly the Dover Sole

#SoCS @LindaGHill

Prompt: Soul / Sole

See Linda’s Site here for more info

Solly was a lonely soul; being the last Sole in the sea. He swam around in the English Channel, a Dover Sole was he. He swam around other places , too – he believed in swimming diversity, ever since he was at school, and all through university.

He sought a like-minded Sole to be his soul-mate; but, he couldn’t find a single Sole, Solly got into a state.

Swimming the seas from Britain to France, Dover to Calais, Solly sought a Sole called Sally; but she had fled, a tad too late, and ended up upon a ceramic plate with a slice of lemon upon her head – in one short word, Sally was dead. Sad face.

Solly didn’t know this, he couldn’t read; he hadn’t learnt, didn’t heed his mum’s advice to learn the Classics, Plato, Dickens, Agatha Christie – where the plot thickens, like gravy or a Béchamel Sauce ladled upon a fish who is now a main course. Sad face with tear.

Solly swam up and down; with a happy face (not) that resembled* a frown (because it was) until he met Annette. Very Sad Face with Tears.

*10-minute timer went off here. Sad face.

Nothing of Substance Here.

Nothing of Substance Here.

There was a hint of mint

in my a la fresco lint –

though why I’d never noticed this before

was a thing of which I am unsure –

and so I thought for a while,

and began to smile…

if you squint at the sun,

not looking at it directly

but, off to one side,

as a monk might have done;

then a tint or two of colour

might come to you

as being of worth to the mind.

Or you might find nothing of the sort;

but, if that is the case,

assistance should be sought.