We were asked to do a quatrain in iambic pentameter at day school on Saturday. Here is my attempt.
We sit and write in class right here today
And might quite like to go and have some coffee.
We look and read some poems with much word play,
To sort out boiled sweets from bonfire toffee.
Polly Robinson © 2012
Polly Robinson © 2013
Home made seasonal confectionery with the minimum of effort! Yay! (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Geoff’s just come home for lunch and given me a late Christmas gift. He started off by saying he’d ‘done a Polly’. Yes, I’ve been known to buy gifts and forget about them until after the event [I thought everyone did that!] Then, the cheeky B gave me a tin of sweets.
Here’s a picture of them hahahahahahahahahahahahaha 
And just for the record … I never get hangovers! 
heh-heh … just noticed, they’ve got ginseng in them, yep, that’s right GIN seng! hahahahahahahahaha ~ Geoff’s trying one out!
Christmas, and there’s
No snow.
Rain runnels and
Banshees howl about the house.
Trees lurch, screaming,
Torrents teeming,
Roads dammed
Across the land.
Close to New Year, and there’s
No snow. No icicles.
Nationwide: the floods.
And on we go to
See the wraith of
Seasons gone,
The phantom here,
The ghost of those to come.
New Year, and there’s
No snow. No icicles. No frost.
Savage spectre of what is lost.
Seasons change.
Extremes occur:
Spring’s like summer
Used to be. Summer’s short.
Autumn comes early.
And so it goes from year to year
The seasons change, become austere.
Those who live with constant jeers
Say this: until we do something,
Until we care,
It’s our world, our earth,
Whose fate
We share.
Polly Robinson © 2012
I am posting this for Claudia’s Change & Turns at dVerse Poets
Written to a prompt by Worcester Writers’ Circle.
Look at him with his great big grin and all that red and yellow around his mouth. He’s bound to be picked first. Kids love clowns.
I want to be picked first. The gifts on the Christmas Tree have a competition every year: who’ll be picked first. After the food, the children will have Christmas games, then come to the tree to choose gifts. Please let it be me first this year. I really want it to be me.
Still, who would want a dusty little robin whose seen better days? Even with a spangled necktie. I must look happy. Look happy! Here they come!
A little boy comes first, brown hair and shy smile, he wears jeans and a reindeer sweater. Look happy! Look happy! He’s reaching for me … That’s right, pick me. Pick me.
No! No! Not the box wrapped in gold paper with red ribbons! Why, you don’t even know what’s in it! Why would anyone choose a box?
Off he goes, grinning.
There’s much muttering amongst the gifts on the tree, ‘The box has gone. The box has gone. Who will be next?’ What they don’t know is that I have an extra gift for whoever chooses me. Whoever chooses me gets what they wish for.
More children come and choose, completely ignoring me, and then, a girl with a blue sparkly headband. Here I am, dear. Pick me! Pick me! Look I’m smiling at you. No, not up there, down here, much easier to reach. Pick me!
She walks away with me clutched in her hand, I am overjoyed. This leaves only the clown.
The last small boy sees the clown and starts howling ‘I hate clowns.’
The little girl who chose me says ‘I wish he’d cheer up.’
And he did.
Polly Robinson © 2012
My review of A Flash of Fiction on Amazon appeared last night. This is the Worcestershire Literary Festival‘s anthology edited by Lindsay Stanberry-Flynn. I thought you might like to read about it too I’ve got some for Christmas gifts. It’s a great read. My friends will love it
Click on the image if you’d like to buy a copy.
Get with the programme ~ get onto some of the funkiest fiction around!
The most talented writers in and outside the UK entered the first Worcestershire Literary Festival Flash Fiction Competition in 2012.
This absolute stonker of an anthology is the result!
Why buy just one story, when you could have 48 selected offerings?
Winner, Amy Rainbow, was a double finalist. Her winning Flash ‘Father and Son’ is a heart-rending story, marvellous to mix emotions so quickly in such a brief tale.
Second prize went to Anna Cullum for `Jasmine and Wet Grass’ in which two cultures talk across a divide.
In third place Emily Pardo’s ‘Adagio’, music to our ears.
PW Bridgman’s ‘Ad Te Clamamus …’ is a brilliant exposition of Irish Catholic life and the relationship between a young couple and her family. Andy Kirk’s ‘Contract to Retire’ has a wonderful twist in the tale and ditto Alan Durham’s ‘At First Sight’.
Every Flash in this anthology has much to recommend it, from the creativity and imagination shown by the writers to the skills and techniques used to keep us engaged.
Recommended every step of the way ~ well done Editor Lindsay Stanberry-Flynn.
I entered the Fantastic Books 2012 short story competition and am delighted two of my stories not only made it to the shortlist (final ten) but are also included in this anthology ~ published on Kindle and very reasonably priced ~ an excellent Christmas gift ~ or just treat yourself! Click on the image below for more details.
The collection Fusion is compiled from the winners of the Fantastic Books Publishing International Charity Short Story Competition 2012 and features 2 stories from professional contributors Danuta Reah and Stuart Aken.
10% of the proceeds from the book will be donated to the WCRF (World Cancer Research Fund) ~ I like that very much.
T’was the night before Christmas
And, in our house
Nothing was stirring,
No rat, bat or mouse,
But mousse made appearance
And trifle with cream,
It’s Christmas Eve,
Time to fantasise, dream.
The tree a’waiting
For baubles and balls,
Holly and ivy
Deck up the halls,
Home is so … homely
At Christmas
And neat,
With carpets fresh vacuumed
And dusting complete;
Parsnips, potatoes,
Sprouts and fine wine,
Sherry and cabbage
And walnuts sublime;
Bacon and turkey,
Pudding and snow,
Pigs in their blankets,
Tree lights all aglow.
Then lay the wreaths for the parents long gone,
Yesterday’s garland a baby’s swan song,
Christmas memories of bygone years,
Look to the future,
Enjoy a few beers.
Polly Robinson © 2011
