I’m doomed!

Just reached 666 followers!

1200-608352-20116504

Advertisements

Flower Power, or a wandering mind!

I wandered lonely as a cloud,

but hang on mate, is that allowed?

I’m sure that’s one too many thrills.

We’re talking golden daffodils!

 

A crowd beside a lake, and trees,

all smoking pot and popping e’s;

The waves beside them danced with glee

and drowned the boss’s effigy.

 

A poet, gay, or maybe straight,

whilst passing through the garden gate,

reclined on couch, in pensive mood,

and all his friends thought him most rude.

 

But now his heart o’erflowed with pleasure,

displayed his love and took his measure,

and, as he rose above the crest,

declared those daffodils the best!

 

With more than a little nod towards:

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

 

BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

Twittering Tale #67 – “The Tree” – 16 January 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.

pexels-photo-veeterzy

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

OK you pesky elves, someone is having a laugh.
That middle tree is upside down!
I want you to dig it up and plant it the right way.

We can’t do that mister, it’s getting dark.

Never mind about that, just get it done.

No, we can’t do that! It’s against the new rules for elfin safety!

(279 characters)

It rather spoils the tale but, on checking, I find that what is “Health and Safety” in the UK is “Occupational Safety and Health” in USA, “Workplace Health and Safety” in Australia, and any number of other descriptions in other countries, so my tale falls a bit flat! Put it down to age!!

Twittering Tale #65 – 2 January 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.

img_0355.jpg

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

“I’ll just explain again. You accelerate hard. Don’t worry about the bumps and bends, the bus will keep you safe. Now, this is the important bit. Once you get to 97mph the vehicle will disappear. You’ll still be in it though.”

“Any side effects?”

“You may wet yourself.”

“Thanks!”

(278 characters)

My Brain

This was written at the age of about 17, in my “sort of journal”. It probably explains a lot about me, and definitely shows up the early onset of idiocy!

In case some readers do not know what tripe is, you probably don’t want to know, but this is what it looks like:

tripeSeriously, would you eat this?

The harder I try to put my feelings and thoughts into words, the more difficult it becomes.

To write down these words, on paper, is even more difficult, nye impossible. The seeming infinity of the brain’s reasoning functions, and its associated thought patterns, far surpass the ability of man to put these resources to use.

Ever since time began, man’s brain has puzzled even the most brilliant specialists. Looking like a lump of tripe, its intricacy, yet simplicity is still not fully understood and, I think, will remain so until long after I’m dead.

With the brilliant circuits, made up of still more brilliant microscopic electronic components, man has strived to produce an artificial “brain”. However, the powers that made us, obviously did not intend us to know the “elixir of life”, for that’s surely what the brain must be.

Man can artificially produce all components of the body except the brain, and, perhaps, someday he may be granted the knowledge of knowledge. God help us when he is. Just think of the corruption it would bring.

I do not see, however, how such a wonderful collection of matter can possibly understand itself. The mere fact that it is so marvellous makes it unbelievable and, therefore, I think, almost impossible to fathom. I say almost because, in this age, specialists have successfully probed and repaired and, in one case transplanted brain matter.

I could go on for pages and pages but my lump of tripe tells me to stop, and who am I to argue with such wisdom?

Twittering Tale #57 – 7 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 140 characters or fewer.

saddle-2613958_1280

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

The emu skull looked great mounted on the shiny springs. The bone was acquiring a fine patina, but it was still a most uncomfortable ride!

(139 characters)

Skies of Tomorrow

I ask about the skies today and wonder on tomorrow

On clouds, and wings, and stranger things, to beg, to steal, to borrow

Perhaps I’m here, but maybe not, I’m sure I do not know

Just as I come, I turn around, and then proceed to go

I float away, and drift on high, in cuddly, snuggly clouds

I hover high, up in the sky, all covered in the shrouds

I look down on the fields and towns on rivers and on streams

I ponder now on what I see and wonder what it means

 

I am indebted,  entirely, to Ward Clever for planting these thoughts in my head, based on his lovely post which you can find at:

https://wardclever.wordpress.com/2017/10/07/skies-of-tomorrow/

 

A bent lady, eclipsed by wet ducks?

There was a young lady from Gwent

who found that she came as she went.

She didn’t know why,

that as she passed by,

her back was incredibly bent.

 

She went to the doctors to ask.

“Lost cause” he said, “Go buy a cask.

Drink plenty of sherry

until you are merry,

sit back in the sun and just bask.”

 

She died and was buried at noon.

Some said it was awfully soon.

Some others thought “Why,

when I look at the sky,

can I see both the sun and the moon?”

 

Of course, it is perfectly plain

that we often see ducks in the rain,

and the lady from Gwent,

who came as she went,

was horribly bent and insane!

Carry on Amber

From the Inside Out

Walt's Writings

Writings on Life, Love, Music & Whatever Comes To Mind

Poems and more from Richard Archer

Poetry from Walsall Poetry Society Chairman and Black Country poet Richard Archer since 2011

forresting my cloud

Katy Boyer's Blissbait Art

Hurdles & Girdles

This, that, and then some.

Weekly Prompts

Your second chance to be creative. .

A Cornered Gurl

I am more than breath & bones.

bluebird of bitterness

The opinions expressed are those of the author. You go get your own opinions.

Brandewijn Words

My Liquid Writings

notthrowingstones.today

(but maybe tomorrow)

what sandra thinks

fiction.poetry.art.truth.humor.life

Pick a book, any book

Book reviews for you

Wonderwall

My 360: wonderwalls,theatre, travel, Sheffield, books...

Dread Poets Sobriety

The Inane Ramblings of a Fractured Mind

Veegraphy

Photography || Poetry || Words ❤

Healing Words

Inspirational Bytes of Calm

A Voice from Iran

Storytelling

John David Ray

Into The Mystic

sparksfromacombustiblemind

EMBERS FROM SOMEONE DOGGEDLY TRYING TO MAKE SENSE OF IT ALL...

J-Dubs Grin and Bear It

As Always, More to Come

Tales from the Romulan Neutral Zone

Of the Chief Parts of the Ruling Passion, only this can be truly said: Hate has a reason for everything. But love is unreasonable.

Salt & Coconuts

Adventure - Photography - Travel

When Timber Makes One Still

"Everyone needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to the soul" -John Muir

My Life

Blogging about Life

babbitman

occasional creativity in a bloke-shaped package

Time No Matter

Last Stage

Half Baked In Paradise

Searching, settling, sauteeing and spritzing

Mitigating Chaos

Still Trying To Make Sense Of It All