Twittering Tales #103 – 25 September 2018

It’s time again for Kat Myrman’s wonderful challenge to tax our creative souls. Just take her photo prompt and write a story, inspired by it, in 280 characters or fewer.

Here is this week’s prompt and my contribution. Check out all the fabulous entries here.

Branching out into horrible humour

The tree had become quite a tourist attraction.
57 pairs of shoes in the branches.
114 uppers, 114 laces, 114 throats, 114 tongues, and 114 heels.
Beneath the tree there were only half that number of tongues, all belonging to the 57 bodies buried there!

Please pray for their souls!

(279 characters)

 

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Twittering Tales #101 – 11 September 2018

It’s time again for Kat Myrman’s wonderful challenge to tax our creative souls. Just take her photo prompt and write a story, inspired by it, in 280 characters or fewer.

Here is this week’s prompt and my contribution. Check out all the fabulous entries here.

I could always recognise her by the tattoo on her arm, a beautiful rose, and by her shiny black hair.
I always greeted her with a cheery “hello”.
I longed to see her face, but she always seemed to hide behind a pile of books.
I determined to peek behind those books.

I wish I hadn’t!

(279 characters)

Twittering Tale #94 – 24 July 2018

It’s time again for Kat Myrman’s wonderful challenge to tax our creative souls. Just take her photo prompt and write a story, inspired by it, in 280 characters or fewer.

Photo by Couleur at Pixabay.com

Here is this week’s prompt and my contribution. Check out all the fabulous entries here.

Great do last night!

Was it?

Yea, I got completely legless. Had to crash out on Ben’s sofa.

Did you see me at all?

Yea. We had a chat early on and then you went off with that weirdo.

Weirdo? What weirdo?

That guy with a huge chopper!

I can’t remember a thing. Think I lost my head a bit!

(280 characters)

Twittering Tales #86 – 29 May 2018

It’s time again for Kat Myrman’s wonderful challenge to tax our creative souls. Just take her photo prompt and write a story, inspired by it, in 280 characters or fewer.

Here is this week’s prompt and my contribution. Check out all the fabulous entries here.

I told you not to leave the window open didn’t I?

Did I, or did I not, tell you at least a dozen times “DO NOT LEAVE THE BLOODY WINDOW OPEN!”

Well, you’ve gone and done it now, haven’t you? I told you, but do you listen?

NO!

In one ear and out the other!

And now it’s loose out there!

(280 characters)

A Corkman dies on the Somme

John McGuiggan, on his site Broadsides, writes brilliantly on all sorts of matters. History, reviews, interesting tales about life in general, and his life in particular. Born into a military family, serving in the army, then transforming into a union organiser, he then somehow ended up as a barrister. He has tales to tell, funny ones, sad ones, reflective ones, but always interesting ones. Do read, and enjoy!

Broadsides - A collection of bits and pieces

The Pencil portrait of Private Christopher Coleman, from Cobh, County Cork, made by his wife.

The first week of September 1916 and the 16th Irish Division are engaged in the bloody advance across theSomme. At the village of Guillemont , men of the 7th Leinster Regiment manage to pass through the shattered village and secure and hold enemy trenches on the far side, but at terrible cost, losing some fifty percent of the soldiers engaged in the advance.  But in the bizarre ethics of war, it was a victory

Following the ‘victorious’ advance, non-combatant labour battalions are sent into the killing fields to clear up the mess left by the fighting soldiers. They clear away abandoned trenching tools, wire cutters, discarded equipment and bits and pieces of dead soldiers. It is gruesome and arduous work.

Among their number is an Englishman, Private George Wiles of the Royal Engineers. As…

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Song Lyric Sunday Theme for 14/01/18 – Natural Disasters

I know it’s way past Sunday, and I know this is really not a Natural Disaster as specified in Helen’s challenge , but it is worth a listen.

This song was inspired by the 1966 Aberfan mining disaster in Wales. According to Robin, there actually had also been a mining disaster in New York in 1939, but not in 1941.

The song was written in 1967 and was the Bee Gees first recording after they had travelled from Australia to England.

I’ve given 2 versions for you to compare. I much prefer the earlier and original version. See what you think!

 

The New York Mining Disaster 1941

In the event of something happening to me,
There is something I would like you all to see.
It’s just a photograph of someone that I knew.

Have you seen my wife, Mr. Jones?
Do you know what it’s like on the outside?
Don’t go talking too loud, you’ll cause a landslide, Mr. Jones.

I keep straining my ears to hear a sound.
Maybe someone is digging underground,
Or have they given up and all gone home to bed,
Thinking those who once existed must be dead.

Have you seen my wife, Mr. Jones?
Do you know what it’s like on the outside?
Don’t go talking too loud, you’ll cause a landslide, Mr. Jones.

In the event of something happening to me,
There is something I would like you all to see.
It’s just a photograph of someone that I knew.

Have you seen my wife, Mr. Jones?
Do you know what it’s like on the outside?
Don’t go talking too loud, you’ll cause a landslide, Mr. Jones.

Written by Barry Gibb, Robin Hugh Gibb • Copyright © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc, Universal Music Publishing Group

What do soldiers do?

The very last line of Owen’s poem The night in showers came to war… 

inspired me to write the following. Thank you, Owen, for the inspiration.

 

Amidst the noise and battle cry, what do soldiers do but die?

Do they rescue one another? “Let me help him, he’s my brother!”

Can they carry even one, when the bullets cease to come?

Is there any feeling left, or is it that they’re all bereft?

Amidst the noise and battle cry, what do soldiers do but die?

 

Amidst the noise and cry of battle, politicians ever prattle,

seeking ways to wage the war, counting bodies, keeping score.

Do they count the family cost, brothers, sons, and fathers lost?

Do they care for all the strife, grieving mother, child, or wife?

Amidst the noise and cry of battle, politicians ever prattle.

 

Amidst the noise and battle cry, what do soldiers do but die?

No one cared until too late, no one heeded others’ fate.

So long as profits filled the banks, businessmen all gave their thanks.

Politicians counted votes, and journalists made copious notes.

Amidst the noise and battle cry, what do soldiers do but die?

Twittering Tale #64 – 26 December 2017

It’s time again for Kat Myrman’s wonderful challenge to tax our creative souls. Just take her photo prompt and write a story, inspired by it, in 280 characters or fewer.

Here is this week’s prompt and my contribution. Check out all the fabulous entries here.

Photo by WildOne at Pixabay’s Creative Commons

 

 

He was a total fool. The last to admit it, but admit it he did!
One wish, she’d said.
He asked for it.
No hesitation.
Stupid!
“I wish time could go backwards, so I could be young again.”
The wish was granted.
Sadly he hadn’t stipulated a cut off point, and being unborn was not nice!

(279 characters)

Twittering Tales #59 – 21 November 2017

It’s time again for Kat Myrman’s wonderful challenge to tax our creative souls. Just take her photo prompt and write a story, inspired by it, in 280 characters or fewer.

 Here is this week’s prompt and my contribution. Check out all the fabulous entries here.

She was only alive because she could play the piano. That much had been made plain.

Her family had all been killed! Her friends too!

She dare not play top C on the keyboard, that would give the game away.

She had removed that string to hang herself.

She would soon join her family!

(278 characters)

We will remember them.

Still a week away from our annual services and parades for Poppy Day but I came across this post from last year and felt compelled to reblog it. I cannot watch it without copious tears but it really is the epitome of poetic Remembrance.

Peter's pondering

A poem in Yorkshire dialect. May be difficult for some to understand but it really is moving. Thanks to Yorkshire Prose.

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