(For the visually challenged reader, the image shows a covered paved street. One person is sitting in a chair in the middle of the street talking to another sitting at the side walk. There is a truck parked in the street behind them. The street is lighted up well with lights hanging from the ceiling)
A philosophical debate Is carried late into the night Beneath artificial light, a covered market Where creeping shadows fall The yellow truck slowed to park Letting the two men chatter, Catching a few words, the driver thought There must be a body beneath The yellow tarpaulin Hanging beside the man on the sidewalk No other voices can be heard The swollen heat keeping other souls at bay The debate cannot be concluded The tarpaulin cannot be lifted by mortal hand What lies beneath placed by evil magic Words must be found to break the spell To find nothing but hot air Escape by touch…
As I sat at my workbench I told myself I would paint myself into history Like Di Vinci, Van Gogh, Monet Only my mind is as blank as the page I looked at Where did they get their inspiration from? The five and dime, the local minute mart? If only I don’t remember painting the strange circles Other worlds, my notepad splashed with paint As if a five-year-old sat in my place Fred, my friendly skull Told me to pursue a different career I thought this a good idea, closing my notepad The next time I look at a blank page I will fill it with wonderful words Produce the next best seller Ten weeks at number one I told myself Hoping that one day, what I say will be so…
ABOUT US: For those new to our website and blog, we would like to thank you for visiting. Between us, we write in several different genres, so there should be something for everyone to enjoy. Anita cannot abide computers, so I (Jaye) do all the technical stuff! Our books tend to be varied, from horror to supernatural romance and coming of age, and mystery thrillers. We try to keep our website interesting with guest posts, bloggers, poetry, and reviews for all the books we read. Our books are shown in the right-hand sidebar and clicking on the images should take you straight to Amazon.If you enjoyed your visit, we would love you to leave a comment…
(For visually challenged reader, the image shows a person walking in a desert, dwarfed by huge sand dunes. A long line of their footsteps can be seen behind them)
Just Around The corner He said it was No mention of sand The endless miles of dunes I should give up, turn around But which way will take me back home? Far away from all this endless sand Not further away from all I hold dear…
ABOUT US: For those new to our website and blog, we would like to thank you for visiting. Between us, we write in several different genres, so there should be something for everyone to enjoy. Anita cannot abide computers, so I (Jaye) do all the technical (oily rag) stuff! Our books tend to be varied, from horror to supernatural romance and coming of age, and mystery thrillers. We try to keep our website interesting with guest posts, bloggers, poetry, and reviews for all the books we read. Our books are shown in the right-hand sidebar and clicking on the images should take you straight to Amazon.
If you enjoyed your visit, we would love you to leave a comment… Hoping to see you again!
( For the visually challenged reader, the image shows a sky full of hot air balloons in various colors. The nearest one shows a couple in the basket with an operator)
Some people say I have enough hot air I don’t need the balloon part To be up and away How I wish that were true I would fly home Flip in through the open window Like Peter Pan Let a hundred hot air balloons Sail on by I am home, I am safe, I am where I belong…
This prompt reminds me of the tall tales I used to tell my children when they were young Like, I never mind the rain, as I don’t get wet, because I can walk between the raindrops. Now I imagine walking under the bridge of water Just as they turned the power off The downpour of downpours Would hit me on the head Like divine retribution For the tall tales I told…
( For the visually challenged reader, the image shows a board covered with hand written messages about love)
Running backwards through the frozen pages of history I see you; I know you I have loved you long before time made its first mark on the world when the last ever footprint has been blown away I will love you still…
( For the visually challenged reader, the image shows face of a woman. It is painted with luminous glitter paint and the features are highlighted with bright yellow lines, ending in a question mark on the forehead)
The human chameleon Dancing behind the glitter mask As we all do these days When there is no right side of the bed To get out of You don’t want to smile And say good morning to neighbours So on goes the mask Pleasantries said You feel worse That nagging feeling inside Telling you to be true to yourself Pleasant society demands it You know being rude Will not help the mood you’re in The question is How long can we hold the mask steady? When tears push through the mask slips You have shown your vulnerable side No way to push that side of you Behind the mask You have shown a side of yourself That will be remembered She’s not as tough as she makes out After all…
( For the visually challenged reader, the image shows a baby monkey looking down from branches of a tree)
My parents don’t know where I am and they look worried. So am I, as not altogether sure I could climb down this tree by myself. I should make a sound, let them know where I am, but not yet, I’m in no hurry to get my ears boxed. Wait, they’re walking away… Going home without me…
( For the visually challenged reader, the image shows a tiny mouse sitting in a wicker basket. There are a couple of grocery lists and some dry pantry items in the background)
It was going to be another hot day and I was up early, trying to catch up on the editing I was desperately trying to finish.
I worked solidly for an hour and the heat was beginning to build. Instead of the early morning freshness, each breath of air was warm in my throat.
Sitting at my desk, pen in hand trying to pretend I was writing, I stared out the window, wondering how long this hot weather would last.
I hate being hot and sweaty all the time. They had promised a thunderstorm later, so that was something to look forward to.
From my window, I had a good view of the garden hedge and its half-clipped state taunted me. It had been abandoned when the hot weather struck. It looked ridiculous, with one side neatly clipped and the top and other side sprouting long shoots like a mad hairstyle. I itched to finish it, but not until the heat let up a bit.
That was when the tapping began.
It seemed to be coming from next door, something we used to hearing. They have a small boy who delights in banging anything he can find on the walls.
As we patiently waited for the noise to stop, I began to imagine someone in trouble, tapping out a message to summon help. This is an occupational hazard for writers, we use any opportunity to create scenarios.
The tapping sounded like Morse code, but with no recognisable pattern. We discussed different reasons why the person in trouble couldn’t shout and that was when we wondered if there was anyone at home next door. It was a school day, and both parents worked, so the mystery was getting deeper.
Anita decided to check and knocked on their front door. When no one appeared, she looked through the windows just in case there was someone lying on the floor.
By now, the tapping had reached a seriously annoying level and I wanted to scream to make it stop. It was louder in the kitchen, but every time we walked into the room, the tapping stopped. Almost as though the tapper could see us and was patiently waiting for us to leave.
As the time went on, the incessant tapping seemed to be increasing, becoming more urgent.
We went through all the possibilities, like could the fridge be making the noise. It did produce odd clicks now and then when defrosting, but nothing like what we were hearing now.
Was there something in the wall, trying to munch its way out?
We have bats in the roof but have never heard them. Anyway, the bathroom was between the kitchen and the roof, so it wasn’t likely.
The kitchen floor was solid concrete, so the tapping couldn’t be coming from there either.
It was almost lunchtime and the tapping had been constant all morning. Our nerves were frayed, and the rising temperature added to the desperation.
That was when Anita mentioned that the tapping sounded metallic and she remembered the mouse trap.
This was one of those humane traps, where the mice can go in to eat the cheese but cannot get back out again. We bought this a long time ago when Merlin started bringing mice into the house. He never kills them you see, and we were for ever chasing them around the house to put them outside.
Now, normally, when one of his playmates has found the cheese, he lets us know so we can release it. For some reason, this time he hadn’t.
I slid the trap out from under the cupboard and peered inside. I couldn’t see a mouse, but the cheese had been nibbled. I took the trap out into the garden and lifted the lid. Instantly, a tiny but very determined field mouse appeared and leaped to freedom.
Problem solved and peace returned to the household.
Now, where is that thunderstorm?
This post brought to mind when the first of these visitors began to arrive, and the terrible circumstances that ensued.
If you would like to read these posts, you can find them at the following links…