If and Only … Your friends in waiting.
Glasgow Street Art
If and only are companions
They go hand in hand with fate
Like the dreams of millions
In retrospect, they arrive too late.
If and only trapped in meditation
Held back by dithering doubt
full of indecisive hesitation
In retrospect, just throw them out.
If and only may rule your life
with choices, hard to bare
what could have been was strife
In retrospect, do you really care?
Now if was your only thought
when you couldn’t make up your mind
of things not done or should or ought
In retrospect, if only you had more time.
A Rat in every Port – Three Line Tales
Photo – Timothy Meinberg via Unsplash.
‘The Jellicle’ sails on the morning high tide,
Hurry Captain Growtiger, get on board,
and quick before Miss Kitty wakes.
Drifting in Time.100 Word Wednesday
Image by Sandra Jane
My relief; we made it back to the docks. Exhausted, I’ve been rowing with the current ever since the Meridian sank. When? How strange that the harbour is in a dilapidated state and abandoned, all in a space of one week. I sense an eerie chill, of being observed, that bristles the hairs on my neck. This is no welcome and this is not home.
I nudged Holmes awake from his sleep, he is delirious due to his allergy to sunlight and I note his aversion to physical exertion, except puffing of hashish from his pipe. Well, Watson, he had said before we sailed, if I can’t get the true elixir then this potpourri will suffice.
‘We made it Holmes,’ I shouted, glad to be alive.
‘Yes,’ he said and sat up in the boat for a better look. ’We are indeed here, but at the same time we are not.’ He grabbed at his pocket watch and checked the hour. ‘Oh! What year is this? Ah! Doctor, yes yes how very clever.’
‘What!’ I didn’t get his demented drift. ‘Clever?’
‘Oh yes, the Doctor is afoot.’ He grinned. ‘Let’s tread with care.’
‘Precisely, Watson. The Time Lord himself.’
Posted in 100 word wednesday, Blog, Flash Fiction, Uncategorized
Tagged Doctor Who, Flash Fiction, Humour, Kurzgeschichte, Mystery, Sherlock Holmes, Short Stories, Writing
Image by Bukurgurl
The Lighthouse (100 Word Wednesday)
Oh lonely, oh lonely was the lighthouse keeper.
and for ninety years he guided ships in this cove.
But now he haunts the night with a ghostly flicker.
Street Art in Glasgow, Scotland
They said she’s nice, so don’t be late
You’ll recognise her beautiful smile
And she’ll be wearing the latest Prada style
My nervous excitement, on a blind date
I saw her, gorgeous, laughing at the bar
Dressed in fashionable hugging stripes
Enchanting, attracting extroverted types
Like a prowling stag, ready armed for war
There is something about the fading light
That brings out an instinct in my mind
A sort of sublime emotional mating kind
That drives survival, but perhaps not tonight.
Three Line Tales – On a Wing and a Prayer
Over the world and in peace, feeling the quite serenity
of flying and softly floating free from earthly responsibility.
But all too soon, we’ll land on the insecure realities of insensibility.
Alice Wants Home – Three Line Tales
photo by Fleur Treurniet via Unsplash
‘Only the Unicorn knows your way home,’ the owl screeched. ‘Which way, which way, which way.’ It glided into the dark.
‘Wait!’ shouted Alice. Alone she looked around. No entry, one way street going both ways. A window in the yard.
She stamped her foot and wept. Could she really climb the drain pipe? But she must to find the Unicorn.
A Cabin in the Woods. 100 Words Week 7
Adam and Eve ran away from disapproval and family shame
Where people pointed since their unmarried love was a sin
They disappeared into the woods to start their life again
Where they built a cabin and a home for future children.
They built it far away from the well-trodden paths
By a lake with bulrush reeds and darting dragon flies
that hovered in the air with warm dog-rose scented wafts
drifting in the idyllic afternoons under the cloudless skies
Where behind the purple rosebay ran the bubbling brooks
They washed and bathed naked in the clear shallow pools
Guarded and watched over by a parliament of silent rooks
As they dried themselves slowly with white woollen towels
Alas with naivety of nature’s fruits, a mistaken death cap
was added for nourishment into a warm mushroom soup
As they peacefully slept, in their veins ran the poisonous sap
And in drifting dreams their souls followed a heavenly route
After fifty years, there were no records of the cabin in the woods
Or of the skeleton lovers huddled beneath a blanket of dust
The mystery became a myth full of folk songs with solemn moods
of young couples entranced by forbidden love and mistaken trust.
Chocolate Desire – 100 Word Wednesday – Week 6
See how I shiver with lecherous impulsive greed as you tempt me with your dark smooth and sultry sweetness.
See how I drool, as I am forbidden to stroke your caramel coloured skin, as my fingers warm with desire to caress your buttery interior.
See how I gasp, as you open and part your chocolate softness and I lust after to lick the musty slit clean of oozing sweet cream.
See how I blush, as you provocatively tease and I quiver as if in the silent moment of commitment before the touch of an adulterous kiss.
I’m yours, Dark Temptress.