SATURDAY 6th JUNE 2020

KALEIDOSCOPE 

Shifting colours, swirling shapes

Geometric patterns forming.

A vigorous shake brings shades 

Magical images storming.

Eyes sparkle with reflected hope

Meeting the mysterious kaleidoscope.

©  Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

(23 WORDS)

TUESDAY 2nd JUNE 2020

LA GOMERA

  The seas were extremely rough on a day our vessel was moored in the picturesque port of La Gomera, one of the Canary Islands.

  We were unable to proceed with our journey, due to high winds and rough waters, our Captain decided that caution was the best way forward. The Captain made an announcement informing everyone that we would be staying in this port for the night and heading straight for the port of Funchal, Madeira, not making the planned stop at Santa Cruz, La Palma. Our estimated time of departure would be 06.30am tomorrow. The waves shook  the ship from side to side and the sea swell was just too powerful to risk departure. The Captain had  decided to stay put for the night, and await a window of opportunity before attempting to leave this very picturesque harbour. Although the powerful wind shook and buffeted the vessel, there was a bright deceptive sunshine beaming through the windows and the ship’s stabilisers did their job. We were quite comfortable on board and I settled down and wrote a poem.

WAITING FOR THE WEATHER TO TURN

Waiting for the weather to turn.

Departure depends on the force of Nature 

Wind whips and swirls the wild water,

The big ship sits in port delayed.

Waiting for the weather to turn.

~

When the large ship turns to leave.

The rear will swing to the rocky shore,

Wind whips and swirls the wild water.

Hour by hour, waiting for a lull,

A break of calmness and windless waves,

Waiting for the weather to turn.

~

The powerless vessel calmly waiting.

Paying homage to powerful forces 

The Captain with patience, calmly waits

For a window of opportunity

Wind whips and swirls the wild water.

Waiting for the weather to turn.

Copyright by John Yeo © All rights reserved

    There was a round of applause the next morning when the Captain announced over the tannoy speaker system, he was about to attempt to turn our ship and leave Gomera harbour. There was a moment of silence and general relief as the ship slowly turned and  pulled away from the dockside then headed out to the open sea.

© Written by John Yeo

‘La Gomera, the second-smallest of the main islands in Spain’s Canary Island chain, is marked by craggy volcanic mountains crisscrossed with hiking trails. In higher altitudes, dense forests of ferns and moss-covered trees grow in the mists of Garajonay National Park.  The upper reaches of this densely wooded region are almost permanently shrouded in clouds and mist, and as a result are covered in lush and diverse vegetation: they form the protected environment of Spain’s Garajonay National Park, which was declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1986. The slopes are criss-crossed by paths that present varying levels of difficulty to visitors, and stunning views to seasoned hikers.
  The central mountains catch the moisture from the trade wind clouds and yield a dense jungle climate in the cooler air, which contrasts with the warmer, sun-baked cliffs near sea level.
    Between these extremes one finds a fascinating gamut of microclimates; for centuries, the inhabitants of La Gomera have farmed the lower levels by channelling runoff water to irrigate their vineyards, orchards and banana groves.’

(Information from Wikipedia)

THURSDAY 28th MAY 2020

SPORT 

by John Yeo

 Freedom to do as one likes is a hard-won state of mind.  

Freedom to enjoy life with the diversification that is Sport.

Support the team, follow the trials of athletics. 

Sportsmen and Sportswomen displaying incredible feats of sporting prowess.

~

Many levels of entertainment come under the title of sport.

A beautiful creature torn to pieces by a pack of snarling dogs.

Such is the fate of some beautiful Stags.

 ‘All in the name of Sport, you know.’

~

Then there are Pheasants,

A male bird has a colourful plumage, that can only be described as magnificent.

Sadly they are shot in their millions. 

‘All in the name of Sport, you know.

No harm done, they are bred to be shot.’

~

Wild Ducks are killed by the sporting hunters. 

Killed for food and pleasure 

The exhilarating thrill of the hunt. 

‘All in the name of Sport you know, culling is essential sometimes.’

~

The Fox can be a nuisance, randomly killing for the sake of it 

Leaving dead carcasses all over the place.

Traditionally Fox Hunters wear a smart red outfit,

Mount splendid Horses and follow the Hounds, 

~

Revelling in bloodshed as a Fox is torn to pieces.

‘All in the name of Sport, you know.

No harm done, their death is all part of the fun.

The hunt is an established tradition.’  

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

THE PIRATE QUEEN 

by John Yeo

  The Pirate Queen Grace O’Malley, was perturbed as her ship pulled away from Clare Island. The plan was to sail to England and plead for mercy from Queen Elizabeth. There were just two major hurdles to climb. Her two piratical rivals Drake and Raleigh were reported to be at court. Granuaile, as she was popularly known, had encountered both of these pirate seafarers on the high seas and there was no love lost between them. The ship was first scheduled to visit Galway harbour to stock supplies. Granuaile and her bosun Patrick met with some fellow seafarers in a hostelry near the Spanish Arch. It was here she received a message from Queen Elizabeth’s spymaster, Walsingham, warning her not to attempt a meeting at this time as her two infamous rivals knew her plans and were waiting. However, the message clearly inferred she would be received by the Queen.

(149 WORDS)

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

Word count: 149. Written for this week’s What Pegman Saw  writing challenge. Every week, Pegman takes us to a new place on Google maps, and we get to search around for whatever sights catch our fancy.

This week Pegman takes us to Galway, Ireland. 

Connemara Galway Folklore and Legend
Connemara’s bleak and beautiful landscape and strong tradition of storytelling have given rise to fantastic superstitions, folklore and legends which were passed down through the generations in tales told by a winter fire. The most legendary of these surely Granuaile or Grace O’Malley, a fiery 16th-century pirate queen. She married Connemara man, Donall O’Flaherty, one of the ferocious O’Flaherty clan members, and they lived for a number of years at Bunowen near Ballyconneely. Renowned for her bravery, wrath and lawlessness, she became the scourge of any English ship that dared to sail her waters.
Confident to the last she reputedly sailed to London to meet Elizabeth I, secure a pardon for her wayward son and a pension for herself.

THE MIRACLE OF LIFE

by John Yeo

A tiny spark of dormancy waits for revival,

Encased in a fuzzy cloud of mundanity.

When time and the mixture of conditions allow

Growth begins from within the uncertainty.

A creation of beauty is coming slowly together.

~

The beauty and the perils that await the entity,

As a fragile life becomes stronger with time.

The magical moment when a muddle of words

Takes a solid shape in a rough draft outline.

A creation shaped slowly with poetical guidance.

~

Words encased with fine vibrancy, line by line.

Ringing through the portals of the poets mind.

The entity that grew from a shapeless design.

A thing of beauty with strength and fluidity

Produced and nurtured from a tiny seedling.

A vision; then the growth of beauty in words.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

by John Yeo

A prompt response to the weekly Friday prompt from ‘What the Pegman Saw.’ A weekly writing prompt to write a story in 150 words based on a different photograph from Google maps.

Joey was acting as a gambler, a man who would bet on anything that moved or resulted in a half predictable result. Joey had met a man in a bar in downtown Providence. Clarke Ball was an avid entrepreneur who was heavily involved in the cruel sport of cockfighting. A deal was in the offing. Clarke was pushing Joey to buy a Rhode Island Red cockerel.

‘You can’t go wrong with this local bird, you put the money up and we split the winnings. Of course you, as the owner will take most, I’ll handle the arrangements for a small percentage.’

Later the two men met on the outskirts of town, Clarke pulled a box off his van. Joey took one look, then turned to his new friend and pulled out his police ID.

‘I’m arresting you for promoting illegal cockfighting.’

Joey had outfoxed another foxy villain

(148 WORDS)

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

TUESDAY 12th MAY 2020

RHUBARB, RHUBARB, RHUBARB

by John Yeo

   I was musing to myself whilst I was hard at work on the allotment today. How can an institution own a plant that was purchased by someone who had rented an allotment. I have grown and nurtured many plants on my allotment over the years, including perennial plants such as Rhubarb, Raspberry bushes, Gooseberry bushes and even my healthy Asparagus plants. These will grow on for many years to come, for example Asparagus is expected to last for 20 years.

   One of my Rhubarb plants had sadly passed away. I can’t think of a reason why this should suddenly happen, the plant just suddenly shrivelled and died. I did grow some large Globe Artichokes quite close to this plant and I have a sneaking suspicion these may have been responsible for my wonderfully healthy Rhubarb plants early demise. Globe Artichokes are greedy feeders and they may have starved the Rhubarb of essential nourishment and moisture.

 My wife is quite clever at making different types of Rhubarb crumble and several other tart, tasty Rhubarb dishes. I bought a couple of replacement plants from a local garden centre, but to my surprise, neither of them took to this position in the garden at all.

 I think it must be some anomaly within the soil. I persevered and dug in copious amounts of fertiliser without any success. One of the two plants seemed to just give up the ghost and the other just about feebly stayed alive, but no edible stalks appeared. I put this down to the fact it was probably because it was the first year of growth and perhaps I was being a bit too impatient.

  I remember ten years ago, a good friend of mine had some surplus Rhubarb plants and offered one to me, if I dug it up. I of course said, ‘Yes’. Then followed a strenuous couple of hours work as I began to tackle the job of digging up a well established Rhubarb plant. I never envisaged just how large and thick this Rhubarbs root system would be. It was like removing an Oak tree, by digging it up by the roots. Anyway perseverance made the day and I was left with this huge root. I then began the process of division, using a sharp spade to chop the root into sections. I was pleased to finish the job with six separate pieces of root that all grew into healthy plants quite quickly. Looking back, I think over the years, one of these sections had grown into the plant that had recently sadly died.

 I noticed some extremely healthy Rhubarb plants growing on a nearby allotment, where the tenants had given up and moved on.

When I enquired whether it would be possible to retrieve one of these plants as nobody was obviously working on the allotment this year. I was informed that they had become the property of the landlord. However another friend donated a rooted Rhubarb plant that hopefully will go some way to rewarding us with a crop next year.

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.