Cedar Springs

Sometimes, when it’s quiet, I can remember what my life was like before moving to Cedar Springs, and I begin to wonder what would have happened if we had stayed in England.  One thing is for sure, I wouldn’t be here in a police cell, awaiting trial for a crime I hadn’t committed.

It had been my husband’s idea to move to Canada. It was to be a new life, a new country, a new start. There were fantastic job opportunities to be had there, Mark had thought, and life for our teenage children promised to be better in Canada than it was in England these days.

Right from the first, it seemed he was right. Continue reading

Naughty Myschka

I shouldn't be up here but I don't careI’m so comfy up here I’m not going to move
until my mum comes along and gives me a shove.
Whenever she goes out of the room I’m up here
and I know she will shout, but I really don’t care!

I barked to say she was up on the chair,
as soon as you’d gone out she leapt up there.
But I’m lying here as good as can be
it’s Myschka who’s naughty this time, not me!

But I'm being a good girl for once


Dinner at Mario’s

I touched the little box in my pocket and smiled. I was all ready for our date tonight. I had booked an intimate table in a discreet corner of Mario’s, the top class Italian restaurant in town. I had not told Angela where we were going, it was to be a surprise. I had ordered a dozen red roses which were to be delivered to Mario’s and produced on our arrival. I wanted everything to be just perfect.

It was 7.30pm. Our table was booked for eight, so I just had time to have a quick drink before the taxi came for me. I would pick up Angela on the way. I couldn’t wait to propose, but I needed a bit of Dutch courage. I had been after Angela for years, but she was always so popular with other men that she hardly had eyes for the likes of me. I couldn’t believe it when she finally agreed to go out with me, and we have been seeing each other for three months now. I wasn’t going to let her escape, and now I had the chance to ask her to marry me.

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Frustrated Silver Surfer

I’m sitting at my desk again, trying hard not to cry,
waiting for my laptop to restart again so I
can find some amusement. And what’s the reason why?

’Cos I’m too old to go to work – no-one wants me any more,
so I’ve got to find some other things to fill my life, for sure,
’til God sends his disciples to come knocking on my door.

I’ve tried to read, but tiny printed words I cannot see.
I’ve walked my limping dogs, but that’s not far enough for me,
and my friends are all so busy, visiting their family.

I suppose I could read my pile of post, but that’s a chore.
Most of it is junk mail, or stuff I’ve had before.
I wonder why they still keep putting it through my door?

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IT is a four letter word

Quill pens, ledgers – bring them all back,
throw away computers on a disused railway track.
Bury them deep and plant over lots of trees,
or take them to the bottom of the deepest seas!

I don’t think we were this stressed fifty years ago.
except when we couldn’t get through the driving snow.
So much information, how can one take it in?
and do we need it for our happiness within?

I remember when we had our first computers –
they were bigger than a pile of invalid scooters!
There was an army of personnel pumping info in,
and a forest load of trees spewed out, which ended in the bin.

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The Owl

The birds twittering in the trees suddenly stopped,
the brilliant eyes of the town suddenly dimmed,
all at once the trees heaved their last deep sighs,
the grasses shook their heads –
night fell.

Out into the night shone two alert eyes,
waiting, watching.
Nothing stirred over the vast hillside.
He turned to the west –
all was quiet.

The silent stranger saw with pleasure
the last light suddenly flicker out.
Now was the time for him to start
out on his nocturnal quest –
darkness reigned.

Away he went over the meadows,
slowly, silently,
to the barn where even the rats slept.
This was his destination –
what’s afoot?

Minutes later the stranger reappeared,
sailed gracefully back to the tree.
As another star began to shine –
the owl had flown.

Written in my book of poems I wrote when I was 16

Firework night

Light show:
awesome, noisy,
flashing, sparkling, crackling, banging,
vibrant Autumn garden display:

(Cinquain poem)
5 Lines – not rhyming
1st line – a noun, 2 syllables
2nd line – 2 adjectives describing the noun, 2 syllables each
3rd line – 3 “……ing” words describing noun, 2 syllables each
4th line – a 4 word phrase about the noun, 2 syllables each
5th line – another word for the noun, 2 syllables


Fright night:
wary, scary,
tricking, treating, chilling, thrilling,
ghosties, goulies, witches abound:

(Cinquain poem)
5 Lines – not rhyming
1st line – a noun, 2 syllables
2nd line – 2 adjectives describing the noun, 2 syllables each
3rd line – 3 “……ing” words describing noun, 2 syllables each
4th line – a 4 word phrase about the noun, 2 syllables each
5th line – another word for the noun, 2 syllables

Back to Brighton

This was her fourth ice cream in a row. She was out of control. It was probably because she had deprived herself of so much during Lent, but that was no excuse for pigging out on Easter Monday. Brighton seemed to have that effect on her. First go to Harry Ramsden’s for fish and chips – there could be none better in the world. Then saunter down the pier watching the kids pumping their money into slot machines in the amusement arcades, just like she used to do before she became ‘sensible’. Then wander along the front looking to see how many youngsters were brave enough to take a dip at that time of year, as she had done as a teenager, while her parents were sitting wrapped up in thick overcoats on their picnic blanket spread over the shingle. Oh the memories that came flooding back!

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