Creativity – Page 31 – Boadicea's Chariot

The mystery of the hot house

The neighbours were complaining of the heat. The top floor apartment of the modest Forbes building was owned by Herman P. Herman and he wasn’t answering his door. It was agreed by the other occupants that the caretaker should be called. While they waited, the heat was getting worse.

The caretaker arrived with a spare set of keys. He inserted them in the lock. He did not need to turn them in the slot.

“The door’s not locked.” he said. “It must be locked from the inside. I’m going to call the police.” Continue reading “The mystery of the hot house”

On the canal – holiday poem

On the Canal

The pondskaters’ erratic
flick-flack glide disrupts
like light shower dimples

while the flash of a fish
spreads ripples through
inverted sunset clouds. Continue reading “On the canal – holiday poem”

Summer holiday poem: a villa on the edge

A villa on the edge

My daughter swimming laps.
I lose count after 200,
she’s not best pleased.
For my penance I take her down the cliff
to the rocky beach.
She snorkels in the pools.
I dread the journey back;
she beats me by a mile.

Continue reading “Summer holiday poem: a villa on the edge”

Holiday pome

“It’s a nice class o’ sand ‘ere at Scarb’rough,”
Said me Dad as he marked out the pitch.
“Uncle Silas likes Brid for ‘is cutters;
But I really can’t tell which is which.” Continue reading “Holiday pome”

August Poetry Competition

By the time August draws to a close the holiday season will almost be over, London streets may be returned to the overtaxed residents and even the French will be back at what passes for work.

Our subject will be “My Summer Holiday”. It does not have to be this year’s event, just something memorable to the participant. Some of my most remembered are the annual Sunday school day trips to Porthcawl via GWR in the fifties. (It always rained).

If you really did spend your hard earned at the Olympics, (or watching cricket) that’s OK but your offering will be judged accordingly, as will entries submitted on currency or negotiable instruments.

Any form or scheme. Closing at midnight EDST on August 31.

What daffodils? for Mr. Mackie

I wandered lonely in the crowd
Whose breath with patriotic fever held
When all at once I saw a cloud
A host, of golden medals held.
Beside the lake, upon the seas
Our standard fluttering in the breeze Continue reading “What daffodils? for Mr. Mackie”

All together now! And two three four

The Stasi years

An entry for JM’s poetry competition. A duet.

* * * * *
Four years of dedication
Pain barriers, niggles, frustration
The time has come
Bang goes the starting gun Continue reading “The Stasi years”

Only if you’ve read it

No doubt the less inhibited inmates at the Big House have already done this to death but here in the hushed corridors of the Colosseum I’ve seen no mention of THAT BOOK (or books to be exact) which now outsells Harry Potter and probably the Bible and will soon challenge Mrs Beeton. Continue reading “Only if you’ve read it”

Judgement on photo competition 29

The photo competition, number 29 asked for photos to illustrate what the weather was doing in your area of the world… and I thought there would be masses of entries – but no, only a few!

OZ posted a laid back cat, sunning on a wooden beam – wonderful blue skies behind. How envious I felt.

Soutie posted several pictures, here, here, here and here illustrating rather extreme wet and windy weather in South Africa. My favourite of all these was the third, where the damage and the scale of the trees is clearly seen.

Boadicea posted a picture of a kookaburra in an old gum tree, and this for me is the winner.
I may be biased, but I love those wonderful birds and their call reminds me so much of camping trips in 1987 -88! I can almost smell the eucalyptus…. But more than that it is a beautiful photo: the composition is balanced, with the branch shape, the proportion of blue against the silvered bark, and the tufts of the bird’s head-feathers echoed in the sharp spikes of the broken off tree stump.