This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘The Last Post on WordPress’ ~
Prompt ~ DECISIONS, DECISIONS
How are you more likely to make an important decision — by reasoning through it, or by going with your gut?
Personally I tend to tailor my decisions to the situation I am making the decision about, as I humorously describe in my little piece of poetic Flash Fiction below.
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘The Last Post on WordPress’
Prompt FROTH
FROTH
by John Yeo
The conundrum for the day was how to turn a seemingly ordinary five letter word like froth into an interesting Blog post.
My ever-creative mind conjured a situation where my main character; call him Phil, a go ahead young man who unwittingly has become the target of Silas, a smooth-talking con man. Phil has engineered a number of lucrative deals for his employer HMQ and is in receipt of a generous bonus.
Silas has arranged a meet to discuss some dodgy investments. Realisation of the situation has set in for Phil, but curiosity drove him to attend the ill-starred meeting.
I wrote a villanelle style poem to describe the meeting and the outcome.
After all this is poetry month and so far I’ve completed a poem-a-day……
THE FROTH OF A CONMAN
by John Yeo
I avoided getting caught in his intricate web, Becoming just another part of his vocal froth; With guarded responses I never turned my head.
~
I kept my distance stayed free instead,
I’m part of a suit tailored from a different cloth, I avoided getting caught in his intricate web.
~
The froth on his promises never soaked my bread; The smart trickster used words to subtly rebuff, With guarded responses I never turned my head.
~
The inn where we met was a place to dread, Our meeting started smooth then dirty and rough
As I avoided getting caught in his intricate web.
~ I escaped clean away quickly or I’d be dead, Using my ingrained logic, I stayed my wrath;
With guarded responses I never turned my head.
~
I avoided the invitation to join in the thread Of broken promises stirred into a palatable broth; I avoided getting caught in his intricate web, With guarded responses I never turned my head.
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘The Last Post on WordPress’
Prompt ~ LUMINESCENT
Photo credit by Kris Williams
BIOLUMINESCENCE
by John Yeo
Photographers and nature lovers have been watching bioluminescent plankton glowing off the Welsh coast.
Bioluminescence describes the light that some living creatures, such as fireflies and jellyfish, emit from their cells.
Photographer Kris Williams captured the above sighting in Beaumaris, Anglesey in Wales.
To discover vivid natural bioluminescent plankton, one of the best places is in the Indian Ocean.
Travellers to the exotic waters, surrounding the islands of the Maldives, may be treated to a dazzling natural phenomenon that turns the night-time ocean into a field of glowing stars.
As waves break on the sandy shore, or bare feet step into wet sand, a bright blue glow appears. This magical effect is caused by the bioluminescent plankton that often appears in warm coastal waters.
A trip to the Maldives could be on our bucket list when we are finally allowed to travel again.
We survived the unruly protection of the nest, There were two of us left on the final day Pushing and fighting for survival of the fittest The others died slowly and wasted away. One day we were forced to fend for each other. Pushed into flight by our parents insisting Our shining iridescent plumage glistened over As our feathers formed and became powerful wings. ~ Gliding, soaring gracefully, a bird on the move, A fully fledged miracle flying in heaven’s high. Soaring close to the clouds floating above. Survival in the folds of an unpredictable sky. Calling loudly with a natural melody Revelling in a new found freedom of spirit. A powerful instinctive natural urge to belong To the freedom of the life we were now to inherit.
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘The Last Post on WordPress’
PROMPT DO-OVER
Go back to a blog post you always thought could be better, or were unsatisfied with – now, fix it.
( Blog post resurrected from Wednesday 6th March 2018)
This post was deficient in that there was no indication that it took place in Eastern Australia and it was lacking any photographs. I hope this has fixed those unsatisfactory problems.
I had a habit of getting up early and walking along in the local nature reserve. I went for my first walk through the natural woodland in the park with the camera, the weather was cloudy and threatening to rain, I had decided to risk a soaking. There were not many birds around to photograph, although I was aware of the usual cacophony of sound from the trees and scrub in the woods.
The first bird I came across was my old friend the brush turkey who was in the process of building a nest in exactly the same spot as he did fourteen months ago when we were here last. I shot some photographs of him hard at work and wandered along the track which was quite muddy from the incredible rainfall here of late and I was forced to turn back and retrace my steps.
On the way I was met by my friend the dog walker, a man who I had met in the same place walking his dog when we were here last. Then the rain suddenly came and I was soaked to the skin, within minutes I sheltered under some enormous Palm tree leaves and waited for it to stop. I heard a rustle behind me and I was just in time to photograph another brush turkey.
The rain stopped and I was able to continue on my way. As I was nearing home I noticed some movement in a beautiful Golden Penda tree which was in full bloom and covered with lovely yellow flowers. These trees are everywhere in this area, and they are all covered with pretty yellow blossom at this time of the year. To my surprise and delight there were several rainbow lorikeets feeding on the nectar produced by these wonderful flowers, and I quickly snapped a photograph of the lorikeets feeding, until I was noticed by the birds and they flew off.
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘The Last Post on WordPress’
Prompt ~ TURN, TURN, TURN
For many of us, winter is blooming into spring, or fall hardening into winter. Which season do you most look forward to?
I
TURN, TURN, TURN
by John Yeo
February dark is merging with March birdsong
Our tender baby plants protected from the weather
A forecast with ice and snow on the horizon.
~
Our plants fed, watered, nurtured and growing strong.
Spring is not very far, yet winter days last forever,
February dark is merging with March birdsong.
~
Wind howls from the north the season seems to prolong.
Harsh hardship for growers who have to be clever
A forecast with ice and frost on the horizon.
~
April brings welcome showers as flowers begin to throng
A carpet of colour spreads far outwards wherever
February is merging with March and April birdsong.
~
The farmer has learnt to always weather the storm,
Never afraid to stand his ground whatever, whenever.
A forecast with rain and floods is on the horizon.
~
Never taking shelter from the storms of life,
Ever ready to spread warmth with a smile.
A forecast with sun and warm rain on the horizon.
Merging February, March, April with a May Spring song.
~
~
This prompt was another relatively easy prompt for me to respond to. As gardeners and confirmed allotment holders, Margaret and I follow the seasons closely.
I’m certain spring is the season we look forward to most, as this is the month when most of our hard work is done. We need to sow most of our vegetable seeds in the spring. We grow a surprising amount of our brassica seeds in large tubs, before transplanting the baby plants into their final resting place in the allotment beds.
We are always at the mercy of weather fluctuations, as a late spring frost could easily wipe everything out, sending us straight back to square one.
Spring is for me, the favourite time of the year, for the beauty of birdlife, their wonderful tuneful breeding season when the dawn chorus reaches the heights.
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘The Last Post on WordPress’
Prompt…. Head to your favourite Blog, scroll down to the third post on the list. Take the third sentence on the post, and work it into a new post of your own.
‘Since soon out there into the wide unknown world’
With thanks to gunroswell and her ‘Rantings of a third kind’ blog.
RETREAT
by John Yeo
We live in our personal space in England,
The lawn slopes to the edge of some trees,
Our house sits in front of our woody garden
With shrubs in floral borders sure to please.
There is a secret path within those trees
Leading to a comfortable place of total seclusion.
Since soon out there into the wide unknown world
A wave of death and disease is approaching.
~
Thick bushes and shrubs screen this secret place
Shielding a hidden glade with a secure, secret studio,
A rustic gate opens into a walled garden space.
A sheltered arbor within, has a comfortable seat
In front of a pond with water lilies a tinkling fountain.
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘The Daily Post on WordPress’
Prompt ~Share the Love
Tell us about another blogger who has influenced your own online journey.
Crows roosting by Patrick White – 15/09/1948 – 01/03/2014.
THE POWER OF WORDS
by John Yeo
It was ten years ago when I first came into contact with a man who had a big influence on my writing.
I followed his writing on a daily basis, overwhelmed with his poetry. He would write a long powerful poem on a daily basis and publish it on his Facebook page. It was to become a joy for me to wake in the morning and to start my day by reading his latest overnight post. I began commenting daily on his published poem and receiving a response. We became good online friends, to the point of him signing off by always sending. ‘Love to Margaret,’ my wife.
He was also a brilliant and accomplished artist, often displaying and selling his work online.
Sadly he passed away on the first of March, 2014.
PATRICK WHITE R.I.P.
by John Yeo
Tragedy; a situation that can be woven into verse?
Not a difficult question for the power of the pen.
Advice from a talented well-respected poet and artist
Patrick White (15/09/1948 – 01/03/2014)
‘I Often employ a Sufi practice in my poems, called scattering. You seed the wind with so many flowers, stars, images, the border guards of front door consciousness are overwhelmed by them to the extent that they start coming in the undefended… back door of the subconscious that listens to and hears everything without missing a thing. The point is to get in first, and then let the conscious mind find a place for them to settle. As for the form, its dynamic, not static and runs like a northern river back to its source, with all the inflections of water, whitewater, still water, falling water etc. reflecting the various moods and intensities of the poet along the way.’ Patrick White
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘The Daily Post on WordPress’
Prompt ~THE TRANSPORTER
Tell us about a sensation – a taster, a smell, a piece of music, that takes you back to childhood.
The boyhood of Raleigh by John Everett Millais 1870
THE TRANSPORTER
by John Yeo
The sensation that is the strongest transporter back to my childhood will always be a strong smell of ronuk fXxurniture and floor polish. Our school reception area was full of highly polished panelled wood, with a polished wooden floor. These wooden areas were kept highly polished by the school cleaners, using ronuk, floor and furniture polish. The powerful smell of this wax polish will live with me forever.
However, there was another sense at work in this area that will always stay with me and that is the sense of curiosity and wonder every time I gazed at a painting that was prominently displayed in the main entrance area. Every time I passed this work of art, I would spend ages just standing, soaking up this image, surrounded by a strong smell of ronuk floor and furniture polish.
In the foreground of the painting was a bearded man
wearing a distinctive hat, seated in front of a beached fishing boat.
The fisherman was in conversation with two young boys
pointing to a distant horizon with one hand, while holding a fishing net with the other hand.
THE HORIZON
by John Yeo
A distant horizon, where the clouds meet the sea
An unbroken line as far as the eye could see
Representing mystery and imagination to the schoolboy mind.
A gateway to the unknown an escape route from reality,
The sailor, telling tales of wonder across the waves.
~
Waves as high as mountains and fish as big as a man.
Huge sea monsters with many humps spouting spume
Swordfish, mermaids, sharks and pearls in shells
I would stand and be transported to distant lands
Journey to places I was encountering in classes.
~
Ivory and the slave trade, copra, with spices
Sandy islands with Palm trees and Robinson Crusoe,
Cannibals and treasure with footprints in the sand.
Pirates and corsairs with cutlass and gunpowder.
Gold-filled galleons sailing the storm-tossed seas.
~
Hornpipe, sea shanties, shipwreck and disease.
Colourful birds flying high above the waves
Leading the traders to many distant lands,
Jungles, filled with lions, bears and monkeys,
Elephants and tigers, and strange perfumed flowers.
~
Faraway lands filled with milk and honey
With many peoples of the world in traditional dress.
Contrasting strange lives of splendour, and sad distress.
Deserts with oasis and camel train routes from the east.
The mystical oriental thousand and one tales of wonder.
~
Magic lamps with genies granting wishes galore.
The science of Arabia, the wisdom of China and more.
The perilous journey home across the seas braving storms
Carrying the cargo from ports and people round the world.
Unload a hold full of fish mend the nets whilst ashore.
~
A dream-filled reverie cut short with a caustic shout to implore.
‘You there! Stop daydreaming boy, and cut along to classes’.
Unsurprisingly this was always going to be an incredibly easy prompt to respond to, as everyone is currently embroiled in a worldwide pandemic. It is impossible to plan an escape from an ongoing, ever-changing situation. However the poem certainly answers the prompt.
johnandmargaret1607 