#Writephoto ~ Tranquil

Thursday photo prompt: Tranquil #writephoto



Image by scvincent.com


Beauty of the Moment

I came across a clearing, tall trees,

a small pond glowing red

I was wearing rose coloured glasses

that I couldn’t remove.

The magic of nature, tiny bacteria,

not something  associated with wonder.

The beauty took my breath away

My mind travelled as if taken

 by a time machine to a time of peace.

Twelve years old, on top of the cliffs of Dover

running free, no parents, no brothers to nag me.

The grass damp beneath my bare feet,

the freedom awe-inspiring.

I am alone in the world, I like it.

I found a crater full of crickets

For a moment, peace had been snatched away.

I ran back the way I came

knowing I would never feel it again.

A moment in the scrapbook of my mind.

Here I am, so many years later

Bathing in the glow of friendly bacteria.

It doesn’t sound romantic, yet the tranquillity

stole my thoughts. Words fail me.

How can I describe the beauty,

the magic of this wonderful space?

I want to bottle it, take it home,

selfishly keep it to myself

A different time with the same feeling of peace

Are moments like these meant for sharing?

I think not.

They belong to the secret part of me

My secret, like the day on the cliffs.

Others will walk this way

find this place, have their moment

of tranquillity to carry home…




#FlashFiction 99 Word Challenge for Carrot Ranch Literary Community

March 7: Flash Fiction Challenge

Carrot Ranch Challenge


Wrong Mouse

Our cat Merlin loves to bring us gifts

I wish he would leave the mice outside

I told him the other day, it was the wrong kind

Jaye needs a new mouse for the computer

Of course, he didn’t take any notice of me

He loves to catch butterflies in his mouth

He lets them go unharmed

Maybe he likes the flavour of them

I have no clue, as I don’t speak cat too well.

After buying a new mouse, Merlin stopped

 bringing his gifts for a while

was he trying to tell Jaye that

her mouse needed replacing?


One of our best Worst Ideas Yet?


As if we don’t have enough to do, we have stumbled into what might possibly be either a brilliant idea, or the worst kind of madness ever to visit our house.

I’m not sure where this idea came from, but for some totally inexplicable reason, we are both equally enthusiastic about actually writing a mystery/thriller book together.

This may not work for a multitude of reasons, for we usually write in such different genres/and the arguments will probably reach hitherto unreached levels/we may end up killing each other!

We have started, and early indications would suggest it could possibly work!

Anita wrote the first section/intro, and I nervously followed. We average about 500 words each, but this could easily change when the musts get going.

Quite apart from being the most unlikely writing partnership, can you imagine what our respective muses must be thinking?

Other writers have done this, and in the past, we have often wondered how it would work. Now we will discover how hard it will be and if it will even work for us. And if we can do it without any of our legendary arguments, it will be a miracle!

Already, the conversations about the direction of the plot have been pretty spectacular, for we have such very different ideas about everything. The fact that I am the thriller writer around here stands for nothing, and my suggestions have not been well received, to put it mildly!

Today’s discussion ended with Anita suggesting that we start again, and this time write a spooky supernatural story.

We could, of course, but I am trying to finish my current WIP at the moment and all of this chaos is playing havoc with my schedule. It is my turn to write the next section, so I had better make it good!

#BlogBattle: Dusk

Featured Image -- 45337




Image by Pixabay.com


That purple glow of evening where

the light of day holds on with an iron grip

Before dying into twilight

where it is neither day or night.

That moment when the world holds its breath

Where lovers wait to kiss under moonlight

For others, it is the dying of the light

Alone, the night too long.

Wishing, hoping, they will find someone to kiss

To hold through the dark hours.

Dusk, that romantic moment

when you leap without thinking

propose to the wrong girl.

That purple glow like the full moon

can addle the mind.

It also holds great moments of magic

where you feel life was meant for you alone

You could leap tall buildings, tackle

Einstein’s equations, fly like Icarus.

If you fall under the spell of that purple hue

hold on to it…


Colleen’s Weekly #Poetry Challenge ~ #Double Etheree

Colleen’s 2019 Weekly #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 126, “Poet’s Choice of Words”


Featured Image -- 45278




a time

for sleeping

for lucid dreams

A time to forget

life and all its worries

to seek answers for life’s woes

find another path to lead you

Discover all those hidden secrets

Then do not forget them all on waking

Don’t let the truth disappear with the dark

Remember those newly found answers

For they will fight to fade away

Leaving gaps to mystify

Confusion and lost truth

why bother dreaming

leaving you lost

without hope?

Wake up


watermark xjj

I managed to get in first this week, AND this is my first #double Etheree!


#Wordle ~ 393



Wrong Time

Timing is a strange thing

It can be corrupt, either good or bad

In my case, I think it is the latter.

I was born in 1946, the wrong time frame

Not a good year, not even for wine.

How I think, the way I feel,

 doesn’t fit with those around me.

I remember someone telling my mother

I should have been left on a kibbutz

That I was a wild one, needing space around me

As I grew, I felt the truth of those words.

As a child, I would run for miles

Trying to catch a butterfly

Forgetting about time.

I feel the same today

I would like to set the world on fire

Only I don’t have a box of matches.

Maybe it is time to calm down

Find something to still the wild spirit within.

At my age, there isn’t much I haven’t tried

Apart from a pilgrimage

In the hope of finding Shangrila

before it is too late…


#Writephoto ~ Portal

Thursday photo prompt: Invitation #writephoto




Image by scvincent.com


Open Doors

My invite read, don’t past go, don’t collect 500 pounds

Go straight to the Pearly gates and have a word with St Peter

Start with the fact he is not doing his job well

The gates are open, any fool can walk in

What would God have to say about that?

I wanted to ask where my invitation had come from

Was he hiding some joker behind a cloud?

How come this piece of fancy card

became my passport through the Pearly Gates?

After I awoke from what I can only describe

as a mind meld, my dentist  looked at me strangely

Apparently, while I was coming too, I said,

“You can’t kick me out, I have too many questions for St Peter.”

I do have a few thoughts I would like to discuss with him

What can I say; maybe I need more gas and air

Take another trip…



99 Word #FlasheFiction Challenge for Carrot Ranch Literary Community

Carrot Ranch Challenge




Vanishing Floppies

Life has a way of twisting around

like a stick of barley sugar

The cosmos handed me one that day

a while ago Jaye decided

to retrieve our floppies with a reader

She saved four out of twelve of my books

We took the remaining ones to our local shop

The boys there are brilliant, they saved five now

All on new shiny discs

So I only lost three of my books

Even so, I was devastated

They’re gone forever, to some floppy heaven

Thank God, Jaye now uses USB’s

and backs everything up

Technology, what can you say?


#FlashFiction Challenge for Carrot Ranch…


Not sure how this will work, for Charli Mills from Carrot Ranch Literary Community is having a spot of bother this week. From being snowed in the worst blizzard/snowstorm in history to a complete computer meltdown, we have no link to the Carrot Ranch site.

Charli is struggling to keep going via phone, so massive support for this brave lady please!



Charli’s back yard!



Snowed In…

I have been searching for something

anything to fill the void in my life.

Here I am in a traffic jam, trying to get home

Soft snow falling, and within an hour

I am buried in a tin igloo.

I have water, biscuits left over from lunch.

There is a strange kind of silence.

Maybe it is the whiteness all around me

the sound of my own blood in my head.

How long before I am found?

Five hours to think about my life

Now I am sitting with a hot cup of tea

given by a smiling stranger…