Tuesday 30 August 2016

MEMORIES




Writing Prompt for Wednesday, August 31, 2016
This week Debb at Inner Sunshine


has given us two photo prompts. 





MEMORIES

The cold crispness of the air

Matched her feelings of despair

Black and white no colour to be seen

Stark and bare it was obscene

When would life become bearable again?

It was such a nightmare;

She was caught in a snare

Trapped, frightened, scared, low

Caught as a doe

In the headlights, frozen

On the horizon a light, a beacon

She wanted a dream

She didn’t want to scream

How many days, months or years

When would they stop falling, her tears

Her constant companion in the dark days

Never ending, never ceasing, a black haze

She would shake and shiver

Not with pleasure.


Gradually, oh so gradually

The thaw began slowly

Month by month, day by day, week by week

Trickling back in to her thoughts, she began to speak

To say out loud

To become proud

To stand up tall

She would not fall

Down to the depths, uncontrolled

Loosening the blindfold

The mist began to clear

She began to hear

Sights and sounds

Stopped spinning around

The cold, dark space

It wasn’t a race

Her therapist had said

She was afraid of what lay ahead

Her family strengthened her

Cuddled her, wrapped her in their care

With love and comfort she put one foot forward

And proceeded carefully toward

Building her life, as nature does every season

She would never know the reason

He was taken, his life over too soon

***************************************


The table was set, the fresh flowers smelt wonderful.  Alice smiled.  There was a time she thought she would never feel happy again. 

Everything was ready.  Right on time her companions arrived. Kisses on cheeks were given and received, a flurry of activity as the ladies seated themselves admiring the flowers, the tablecloth and the setting. 

Fresh lemonade was served, teacakes and serviettes handed out, all enjoyed and complimented on by the group of four women.

Now the informal writing group got down to business.  It was Alice’s turn, as the hostess, to divulge writing from several years ago.  She had gone through her dairies and notepads and painstakingly typed her handwriting up on to the computer and then printed out several copies.

As she passed the copies round her heart started beating faster.  Would they feel what she felt at that time?  Would they think it was over the top?  Would they actually realise it was based on fact and not fiction?  Should she tell them it was fact or should she lie and say it was fiction?

A few minutes later each lady was reaching for a tissue.  Hands were dabbing at eyes, throats were cleared.

Joan looked at Alice, Daphne looked at Alice and Anita joined in the stare.
Alice blushed as the heat rose up from her rib cage, covering her throat in a pink glow, moving up to her cheeks and forehead.

Her three friends stood as one and moved besides and behind her enveloping her in a friendly hug.

It felt good to finally let it all go.




Friday 26 August 2016

The Cephalopod Coffeehouse: August 2016


THE ARMCHAIR SQUID SAYS: 
Welcome one and all to the Cephalopod Coffeehouse, a cozy gathering of book lovers, meeting to discuss their thoughts regarding the works they enjoyed most over the previous month.  Pull up a chair, order your cappuccino and join in the fun.  If you wish to add your own review to the conversation, please sign on to the link list at the end of my post.  Here is the link:



A 5* book from me this month



So Much Owed

By

Jean Grainger

Read 3 August 2016

5*

Approx. 364 pages

PRODUCT DESCRIPTION FROM Amazon

January,1918 – Dunderrig House, West Cork, Ireland.

Dr Richard Buckley returns to his beloved Dunderrig, disillusioned and damaged by the futility of war. At his side is Solange Allingham, his best friend’s widow who has lost everything she ever loved. 

Richard’s wife Edith is bitter at what she sees as her husband’s betrayal of his country by wearing a British uniform. After giving birth to twins, she withdraws into a silent world, finally leaving her family for strange new bedfellows. 

Solange is obliged to overcome her own heartbreak to become the mother Edith’s children so badly need. James and Juliet are inseparable and incorrigible and the life blood of Dunderrig. As they grow up, they come of age into a world where despite the horrors of the past, war looms large yet again.

From tranquil West Cork to wartime Belfast, from neutral Dublin to occupied France, the twins lives diverge in unforeseen ways as Dunderrig waits anxiously once more for the safe return of its children.

A sweeping historical saga, rich in romance, intrigue and mystery, all against the backdrop of the most turbulent times the world has ever witnessed.

MY REVIEW

5*

The book starts at the end of WWI when an army doctor returns home to Ireland to his pregnant wife but bringing with him his best friend’s French widow.  The new born twins are rejected by their mother and taken care of by Solange and the housekeeper and her husband.

The children grow into adulthood and along comes WWII.

This was an amazing read, well written, descriptive, well rounded characters.  It lead us back to the days when social niceties had to be maintained, when people were treated differently according to their station in life. 

It is the first book I’ve read concerning the Irish position in the World Wars and that in itself was an eye opener to me. 

The twins have a close bond but a disagreement pulls them apart as they enter adulthood and they go their separate ways. 

The book takes us in to the awfulness of the Second World War and the things people had to do.  

It certainly made me think about the things that people believed and the things that people did during this turbulent time.

A brilliant book. 


Wednesday 24 August 2016

THE HOLIDAY



Writing Prompt for Wednesday Stories 8/24/16

This week the lovely Debb at

Has given us

A photo prompt and five random words to be used – maximum word count of 500 


Photo Credit: Kathryn Hull via Sally Stackhouse.

The five prompt words: leaf, cottage, computer, storm, chisel


THE HOLIDAY

The holiday cottage looked so good in the brochure.  Daphne scrolled down and looked at a few more listings but still came back to the property she had first clicked on.

Frank sat down beside her scanning the details of the property, winked at her in his special way and before she knew what had happened he was merrily clicking away on the computerTwo weeks overlooking the seaside down on the South-East coast was booked in an instant.

A holiday by the sea would sweep away all the cobwebs.  Time to take stock and renew their energy levels.  This past year had been quite traumatic in many ways.  The thought of leaving their well-ordered life and having leisure time now they were both retired was quite daunting.  They talked about what they could do coming to the consensus that they would turn over a new leaf and make plans for their future together.

This would include:

No more watching the clock. 

No more alarms ringing loudly in the early hours of the morning. 

No more rushing around trying to fit everything in. 

They could do anything they wanted on any day of the week.

Daphne and Frank entered through the door to their home for the next fortnight. Her spirits lifted.  She could feel blockages in her mind stretching out and disappearing, smoothing the stress out and releasing her.  She let out a freeing breath.

She felt free.

Free to enjoy the sights.

Free to enjoy the coast.

Free to enjoy freedom.

The next day Frank came back in from his morning walk.  This was his regime now, he would walk to a shop, buy a newspaper and return to read it at his leisure with a cup of tea. 

No time constraints.

Discussing what to do with their day they watched the storm clouds rolling in over the cliffs.  That bank of clouds over the cliffs looked quite ominous.  The sound of the seagulls squawking as they whirled above the sea was eerily comforting as they relaxed on the balcony.

Frank pointed out a kayak in the sea.  They watched the pair of rowers trying to control the small vessel on the water that seemed to become choppier as they tried rounding the sea wall of the port.

“They must be very fit to be able to work those oars.” 

Frank agreed with Daphne as he stopped reading and watched them struggle. 

As the weather was turning the couple decided to visit an antiques market held in the old part of the town.  There was so much to look at that they went their separate ways meeting up for tea and cake at the little cafe across the road.

Daphne’s curiosity got the better of her as she spied a package in her husband’s hands.

“It was a bargain, my dear.”

Frank gave her his special wink again as he showed her the vintage chisel set encased in a wooden box. 
 
She felt no guilt about her purchases.

Word count: 500








Tuesday 23 August 2016

IN THE LAMPLIGHT


The idea of Sunday Photo Fiction is to create a story / poem or something using around about 200 words with the photo as a guide. It doesn’t have to be centre stage in the story, I have seen some where the placement is so subtle, the writer states where it is.
Once you have written and posted your story, please add the link by clicking the link and add it to the collection so we can all have a read.
The main object is to have fun.




IN THE LAMPLIGHT

He stopped under the golden glow of the street lamp

The evening was chilly with an undertone of damp

She let him pull her into his arms

Her skin was grateful for his warm

Body held tight against her own

He murmured and let out a groan

She responded and snuggled closer

A stroke of his finger

Against her cheeks gentle and loving

His hands caressed, his fingers moving

Gently kneading parts of her anatomy

Stopping short of any indecency


Moving apart slowly, misty breaths exhaled

Joining and melding together as they united

Linking fingers they moved along the dimly lit lane

He whispered her name, ‘my Jane’

She answered quietly, so quietly

He strained to hear her say, ‘my Andy’

Lustful thoughts were damped down

Quickly he wiped away his frown



They reached her gate

Although it wasn’t late

Her father was peering, uncertain

From behind the curtains

Standing on tip-toes her lips brushed against his

He wanted more, more than a goodnight kiss

He wanted her in his bed every night from now on

He would pluck up courage and pop the question

Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow

But soon before their love turned to sorrow


Word Count: 199

Wednesday 17 August 2016

FAIRY GARDEN- WEP AUGUST 2016


FLASH FICTION, POETRY, NON-FICTION, PLAYSCRIPTS, ARTWORKS, PHOTOGRAPHY...
  1. SUBMIT your name to the Inlinkz list below NOW to participate
  2. CREATE your entry according to prompt - August / Gardens. More info here
  3. EDIT until it sparkles
  4. PUBLISH on your blog August 17 - 19
  5. STATE FEEDBACK PREFERENCES - full critique to general
  6. EMAIL DENISE OR YOLANDA once your entry is posted - den.covey(at)gmail(dot)com & yolandarenee(at)hotmail(dot)com
  7. READ & COMMENT on other entries, giving feedback as requested. This is key to the success of the WEP!


FAIRY GARDEN

A very warm welcome to my fairy garden.


Take a sneak peek at what goes on when we humans aren’t looking!





He had trembled with fear

As she had drawn near

Blossom knelt on the rock

Her hands gently stroked

The tiny trembling rabbit

She wished she had a carrot




Deep in thought Clara meditated

She pondered and cogitated

Trying to reach the inner depths

To touch others’ breaths

As they passed over in death





Esmeralda sat quite still

A quiet thrill

Passed through her

Knee angled

As she lulled

The tiny bird into her world




Alfriss entered the gate.  He had spied Bluebell lounging with her head in her hands and her thoughts in the clouds. 

Suddenly his throat was dry, his legs nearly gave way beneath him, as hesitantly he approached her. 

Stuttering slightly he managed to say ‘hello’ to Bluebell.

She gazed adoringly up at him.

The nerves Alfriss had suffered as he approached were gone with one look from those baby-blue eyes. 

She made his world feel bright. 

She made his life worth living.




 Ella played with her hair taking no notice of Violet and Luna, who although they were her friends, didn’t really belong in her group but those friends had gone to town and she was left here to talk to these two shy, retiring girls.

Luna sat with her legs crossed talking about this and that and what she was planning to do when she reached adulthood.

Violet sat on the bench and gazed down on the two silly girls below her, that was where they belonged, her parents were the leaders of their clan and they’d be wise to take notice of her.



Silvermist basked in the sunshine. 

All her chores in the cottage were done, her time was now her own.

She fluttered her green wings lazily in the warm rays of the sun. 

This is the life she thought. 

Almost nodding off in the hazy summer day her leisure was rudely disrupted by the ringing of the telephone jarring her peaceful thoughts.




Rani listened to Prilla’s problems

The two fairies were great chums

Sitting comfortably in her chair

She was shocked when she heard about the affair

Rani said she would find her magic spells

She promised Prilla she would not tell

Not a soul, not a one

Her lips were sealed she would keep mum



Buttercup was annoyed with herself.  She was supposed to be the sensible one.  She couldn’t help what was in her heart. 

She could see her neighbours over the way, probably gossiping about her those two. 

Rani and Prilla liked nothing more than to natter and it was usually about other people. 

Buttercup would get over it, she always did. 

This time though he had taken much more than her heart, he had taken her soul as well. 




Odilla brought the flower to her favourite place. 

It was quiet here.  She could think about her loss. 

It had been a few years now but her baby was forever in her heart. 

It wasn’t meant to be. 

His was such a short life on this earthly plane. 

She gently placed her floral token next to the mound as her silent tears fell. 

Ten years of heartache, she would never forget her baby boy.


Sitting elegantly on the green land, Luella stretched her wings and let them close gently. 

This was the right place to sit, the white pond glistening and shimmering behind her. 

All her cares could be forgotten for a few moments. 

That’s all she needed, just a few minutes of respite to calm her down and then she could put on her brace face against the world.




This punishment was too hard. 

Finn didn’t want to fetch the water from the well. 

He was only a boy elf after all. 

Why couldn’t his dad do it? 

His mum said he had to be the man of the family now. 

Why? 

Where was his dad? 

Why wouldn’t anyone tell him what was going on?





 Shush, don’t tell

He’s watching us from the well

Come on and splash me

Tee-hee-hee, says Ruby

Mind my hat

Watch out, here comes a cat.





There was nothing more joyous than tending her garden. 

Rosetta loved her job. 

She was nearly ready to open her private sanctuary up to the public. 

All the donations she would give to charity and maybe, just maybe this year he would walk up her path and whisk her away. 

She would give up her garden if he did that. 

She surely would. 




That silly sister of mine, always working on her plants, waiting for romance. 

Daisy knew she was waiting in vain. 

Nobody ever comes to these parts.  It doesn’t matter if you keep your garden looking beautiful. 

She doesn’t get anybody visiting. 

I don’t get anybody visiting either and my garden is pretty messy but I don’t care.  

Daisy sat down and humphed as she looked at the weeds.
She remembered her Nan saying, ‘a weed is only a flower growing in the wrong place.’ 

Good old Nan. 

Goodness, she did miss her grandma.


I’ll just hide here. 

Eolande was feeling lazy today. 

She might get some grief from her parents but they would be too busy to notice her absence. 

She would just stay here and talk to her pet rabbit.  

After all her birthday only came once a year. 




Rosalie blushed prettily as she noticed Brokk lazing behind the chairs. 
He was really very handsome. 

Rosalie thought she would be brave and actually talk to him today. 

She changed her mind quickly as Brokk flicked a snail at her.



 

This will make a nice nest thought Bobbin the Robin. 

No it’s not quite right muttered Bobbin



This old boot will be much more comfortable.

All I have to do is keep those pesky fairies in line.

I hope you enjoyed this little sortie into my fairy world. 


ALL PHOTOGRAPHS TAKEN BY SALLY STACKHOUSE