#BookReviewTuesday for Tallis Steelyard. A Fear of Heights… @JimWebster6

Tallis Steelyard. A Fear of Heights Kindle Edition

In this novel, recounted by Tallis Steelyard in his own inimitable manner, we discover what happens when the hierarchy plots to take control of the Shrine to Aea in her Aspect as the Personification of Tempered Enthusiasm. Will the incumbent be exiled to a minor fane in the far north? Will Tallis end up having to do a proper job? Does ordination and elevation beckon for Maljie? This story includes the Idiosyncratic Diaconate, night soil carts, Partannese bandit chieftains, a stylite, a large dog and some over-spiced food. On top of this, we have not one but two Autocephalous Patriarchs and a theologically sanctioned beggar.

Our Review

This delightful story from Jim Webster about Tallis Steelyard’s latest escapade turned out to be an unusual diversion from his usual adventures.

I have always thought Tallis an honourable man, carefully evading, or managing to negate, any of the devious plans he comes across. So, I was most surprised to learn of this subterfuge involving Maljie.

Although she has long been my favourite of all Tallis’s friends, Maljie is proving to be a bad influence, but despite my better judgement, I am rather impressed by the speed Tallis manages to keep up with her!

I always fancied a trip in a hot air balloon, so I willingly climbed on board to share what turned out to be a thrilling journey with Tallis and Maljie.

A Fear of Heights is a refreshingly different and exciting story, one I am sure I will be reading again!

BlogBattle ~ Owl

April #BlogBattle: Owl

I love watching the birds in my garden.

This year, we have more birds with the feeders, including red kites in the skies above. The robin with his wonderful red breast and skinny black legs is my favourite.

Jackdaws with their pale blue eyes can look a little menacing, especially after watching a punch up one afternoon between three of them.

The thing I like best is watching the birds pulling twigs from the trees for their nest. They can be so fussy, dropping all the ones I don’t like on my lawn.

It’s a similar story from my front window.

Across the road, we have three hazelnut trees. Here I can watch the building of a nest. The resident blackbird loves to dive into the bush below beside the tree.

One time, trying to take a chosen twig with him, he left it sticking out like a flagpole.

I must confess; I know nothing about owls apart from what I see on TV.

Silent when flying for their food, their cry haunting, like the cry of the lost, still wandering the afterlife for a home.

Their beautiful eyes give off a sense of loneliness, but maybe that’s just me and the strange feeling I receive when watching them.

Our feathered friends, a reminder of days walking with dinosaurs…

© Anita Dawes 2021

What do you see # 76 – April 5 2021

( For the visually challenged reader, the image shows a small porcelain angel sitting in a prayer mode)

My beautiful little angel with her green metallic dress.

Golden wings, not forgetting her halo, handed down to me from my grandmother.

No one remembers where she came from. Personally, I don’t care where she came from as long as she is there.

First thing in the morning I say hello, without this ritual my day would be bad.

This I know, because my son hid her in his room one time, I had so little time to search for her. He was sure he had hidden her under his bed.

That day I couldn’t concentrate at work, I lost a client for my boss who was not best pleased.

Picking up my seven-year-old from school, I saw the scrape on his knee.

The school thought it not bad enough to call me, but I felt they should have, and said so.

Those who know me, know this is not my way to handle things.

Safe inside my home, telling Jack to go look for her, I walked into the living room to find her in her usual place on the mantel beside mum’s candlestick.

I know she was not there when I left the house. Pleased to see her back, I called Jack. She’s here, the how didn’t matter.

Jack promised never to touch her again. He had wanted her to help his friend Tom who was having trouble with his new dad never helping with his homework. This made me wonder if Jane, Tom’s mum, needed help.

I would make a point of asking if we could have Tom after school for an hour.

I will put it to her tomorrow.

I think my beautiful angel has done her job.

I fell asleep, wondering how she had returned, for Jack promised he hadn’t put her back.

The how did bother me after all…

© Anita Dawes 2021

‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.’ New Image Prompt Week #39. Join in The Fun! #IARTG #FlashFiction @pursoot

pexels-amanda-cottrell-992763
Photo by Amanda Cottrell from Pexels

I have to say the super dog looks set to catch the corn dog
A lot more fun than the Millenium Wheel in London
However, my granddaughter looking over my should said
It looks like a giant fan. That would keep the room real cool
She’s right, but I cannot imagine it in my living room
I would love to take a ride on it with my granddaughter
That night, as I slept on one of the hottest nights of the year
With my microscopic fan, compared to the super dog
Wishing so hard that a cool breeze would come and help me sleep
If I could dream the breeze that crossed my bed then
There would be no need for electric fans
Thank God for hotdogs, as we call them
The mind is a wonderful thing…

© Anita Dawes 2021

A Welsh Acrostic Poem for all our welsh followers (and Sir Tom Jones!)

Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwlllantysiliogogogoch

(The longest named place in Wales, UK)

Little do they know
Lilliput is a great
Adventure, no matter your age.
Nana said reading it keeps her young
Father frowned in his usual way.
Aunt Mo said she would like to visit,
In another time and space
Round the universe with Gulliver
Perhaps one day
We all should go.
Let’s save that adventure for another day.
Looks like too much rain right now.
Grandma needs her medicine,
Will you take it to her today?
You are going right past her house.
Nothing else to take while I’m at it?
Gravy boat we promised to return.
You sure that’s it?
Looking around quick, I nodded
Lost for words, he went on his way,
Good job done,
Over to the couch I flopped.
Get my ten-minute cat nap.
Energised, I will
Return to work.
Yesterdays plants still need doing.
Catch the last rays of sunshine.
Holes dug, earth turned, I am
Well on my way.
Year ahead full of spuds and carrots
Rhubarb too
Nice in a crumble
Dad will need extra
Rhubarb pie is enough to freeze.
Often keep some back for gran
Better make sure to plant extra
With father john wanting some for the
Lovely village fair
Local farmers ply their wares.
Lovely toffee apples, sticky sweets
Attract a crowd that stay too late.
Nice time of day to walk around.
Talk to folk with smiling faces.
Yesterday’s rain all forgotten.
Sunshine bright, birds singing.
I for one
Like my life
In
 Overabundant, 
Glory
Over again, I would do it twice
Greet new faces that long for life,
On long hot
Glorious summer days
Off to
Catch those words.
Happy smiles that say you’re back again…

© Anita Dawes 2021

Stop Press… #Poetry

I never thought these words
would drop onto my keyboard.
I am convinced I have killed someone.
I don’t remember why, or who he was.
My memory, half hidden in a fog,
We both held the knife.
I remember he was left-handed.
He lunged first, twisting away.
I received a deep stab to my left thigh.
He fell past me, I spun around,
my knife lodged in his back.
He fell on my kitchen floor.
Trouble is, there has never been
a dead body on my floor.
The two-inch scar on my thigh
tells me there should be.
I have no explanation for the mark he left.
A childhood accident has been suggested.
Others say it could be an old memory
From a past life we carry forward
Once in a while, the scar itches
Reminding me of something
I cannot fully remember…

© Anita Dawes 2021

Bittersweet…

Image by (El Caminante) from Pixabay

I swallow my words, a slow-moving bitter taste.
Full of broken glass that burns my veins.
A storm raging inside, a fire that cannot be quenched.
Fuelled by anger, disappointment, loss,
a life lived too long.
The past doing what it does best,
haunting, stirring the mind to self-destruct.
Ghosts of those once loved smooth the sharp edges
of the hills and troughs dug by bitter memories.
It is better to have loved.
A life lived without is a hollow bubble.
The space inside too hard to handle.
So my friend if love is offered,
Take it, keep it safe.
Don’t live life in an empty bubble…

© Anita Dawes 2021

Acrostic Poem…

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious

Super summer holidays
Up with the lark, ready to run,
Play all day, pay our dues to childhood.
Eat sleep, energy to spare.
Rain, let it pour, we will play anyway.
Carousels with ringing bells
Arcade attractions light our eyes.
Lemon drops, candyfloss, hold them tight.
In our pyjamas we see
Firecrackers late at night
Run outside for one last look.
Ask mum for an early lunch.
Getting closer to counting down the days
In childhood memory, we are left to play.
Little longer, we ask. Not easy to do when asked twice.
In swimsuits beneath our clothes
Sun sea and sand, we stay out late.
Tired from too much sun and fun
In soft, clean sheets, we dream.
Careful now, to hold on tight.
Extra tickets to go around twice.
Xanadu in mind, we pay for one more ride.
Parents waiting, supper made, smiling faces, we say happy days.
In the sea, we found a starfish
Andy almost threw it away.
Lollipops that melt away
In the sunshine, we play with sticky hands
Down to the sea, we wash away.
Over rocks and boulders, we scramble
Careful not to slip. Mum packed us off with plasters,
In case we scraped a knee
Open shops along the way, call us by name we say.
Using all the pennies, we put away,
So holiday fun we could say we helped mum and dad along the way…

© Anita Dawes 2021

Flash Fiction Challenge … #FFFC

Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #105

The image is from aw-landscapes at DeviantArt.com.

Snow filled wonderland.
A painting that only winter can play out.
Tiptoe your way through.
Will you find Narnia, stay awhile?
Meet the wild unicorns.
Carefully navigate your way
Through the crisp snow lace patterns
That shift and change, turning darker.
Menacing sounds from behind you
Do not turn your head.
Do not look back, no pillar of salt here.
Keep walking, find the light.
Where the snow is starting to melt
Into pools of water, reflecting moving clouds.
Bird song, sweet sound of normal life ahead
Ignoring the warning whisper in your mind
That nothing is what it seems
In the strange woodland
Did you walk on, or turn around?
See what should not have been seen?
I pray you did not, for if you did.
The woodland spirits would not let you go…

© Anita Dawes 2021

BlogBattle ~ Revolution

February #BlogBattle: Revolution

February 2021 Blog Battle

The word this month is:

Revolution

My dad had a lot of crazy ideas, this one was the best crazy yet.
Mum said it would be in the yard by
the end of the week with the rest of his junk.
The hugest telescope I had ever seen.
Dad and I put it together, learned how to focus it.
That night from the spare bedroom, my heart jumped from star to star.
fourteen years old and I know what I want to do with my life.
I told dad I wanted to work at the Hubble Observatory.
That night I witnessed my first spiral galaxy.
I had fallen into one of mum’s bible stories.
Revelations came to mind; something began for me that night.
Mum was right, dad will be bored by the end of the week.
Some might say, dad had been marked by the beast 666.
a number that drives the crazy in him.
mum wouldn’t like to hear me say that,
she would be crossing herself half the day,
saying Jonathan, mind your tongue!
Before going to bed, I made sure dad knew I wanted the telescope.
He smiled; we didn’t need too many words,
I knew the scope was mine…

© Anita Dawes 2021