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TURN, TURN, TURN

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THURSDAY 8th APRIL 2021 ~ FLASH FICTION ~ POETRY

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.

~

~

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

CONFUSION 

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  WEDNESDAY 7th APRIL 2021 ~ FLASH FICTION ~ POETRY

This prompt is from the ‘Story a Day’ site. Wednesday writing prompts. Hosted by Julie Duffy

The Prompt ~ Your character is searching for something…and time is running out.

CONFUSION 

by John Yeo

There is something I desperately need to know,

I must find out where I am! My location!

I lie here soul-searching for a solution,

My mind slips in and out of the flow.

My thoughts are the centre of my meditation.

Where am I? How did I get in this situation?

The answers are there and they come and they go,

I must find out where I am! My location!

I search hard to get control of the motion.

Of the patterns of thought fast and slow.

Where am I? How did I get in this situation?

I am paralyzed with mental frustration,

The clues are there and I know as I follow

I must find out where I am! My location!

My memory was good, many years ago,

Instant recollection, free from sorrow.

Where am I? How did I get in this situation?

My character of the moment is a solitary man who is recovering  consciousness from a massive car collision. He crawled away into a nearby thick, woody, copse, at the side of the road, where he became unconscious. Slowly, as he recovers his sense of awareness, he realises he is losing blood fast, drifting in and out of reality, he begins to search for himself with the slow realisation that his time is running out.

©  Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

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RETREAT

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TUESDAY 6th APRIL 2021

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.

A place where safety and good health can be had.

Since soon out there into the wide unknown world

A wave of death and disease is approaching.

~

A peaceful electronic haven where we can retreat

To think private thoughts and muse now and again.

Numerous birds make their homes here in Spring

Sharing our privacy with their woodland melody.

Life’s mountainous problems are suddenly clear.

Bad news of an approaching viral pandemic

Soon out there into the wide unknown world

A wave of death and disease is approaching.

~

A peace seeps into every pore of our being.

We share our lockdown life freely on social media

Through posts that reveal many random Tweets.

Or adorning the face of any smart-media

From that exclusive, secluded, private retreat.

We lock ourselves away in complete seclusion 

Since soon out there into the wide unknown world

A wave of death and disease is approaching.

~

©  Written by John Yeo. All rights reserved.

THE TRANSPORTER

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SUNDAY 4th APRIL 2021

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’.

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

ESCAPE

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SATURDAY 3rd APRIL 2021

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘The Daily Post on WordPress’  

Prompt ~ ESCAPE

Describe your ultimate escape plan (and tell us what you’re escaping from.)

ESCAPE

by John Yeo

Life in lockdown has become a pleasant routine

Wear a mask, respect distance, stay safe at home.

Escape to the beaches of Australia is a distant dream.

~

Another update with frightening statistics between 

Dreaming of a future far beyond the present unknown 

Life in lockdown has become a pleasant routine.

~

Memories of past travels fill our days as we scheme

To visit distant shores flying above the ocean foam

Escape to the beaches of Thailand is a far distant dream.

~

Hope springs eternal with a successful jab of vaccine 

Fake news and rumour cloud the post-Covid syndrome

Life in lockdown has become a pleasant routine.

~

Sunshine, sandy beaches, rest, relaxation intervene 

We enjoy the present but look forward again to roam

A visit to the family in Australia is a distant dream.

~

The future begins to look clearer on the crystal screen 

Covid statistics show a pandemic in monochrome 

Escape to the beaches of Australia is a distant dream.

Life in lockdown has become a familiar routine.

~

 © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

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.

PRIZED POSSESSION

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FRIDAY 5th APRIL 2021

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘The Daily Post on WordPress’  

Prompt ~ PRIZED POSSESSION

Describe an item you were incredibly attached to as a child. What became of it? 

 

PRIZED POSSESSION

by John Yeo

  High adventure, romance, and crime.

~

A uniform array of seats and students,

A desk, an inkwell and a blotter,

A dipping pen with a removable nib,

Blotting paper to soak up the blobs

Inky fingers from leaks and smudges

Nib scratching on an exercise book,

Nibs that got crossed from wearing them in

Tailored to the way you held the pen.

~

Train drivers, firemen and cowboys.

~

Then a competition for all the class,

The prize to win was a modern pen

Blue in colour with a silver nib

With a container made of rubber within

That was filled by a lever with blue black ink.

Write a story, an essay or a poem

Using inspiration and imagination.

I won that pen through determination.

~

Nature, gardens and current affairs.

~

I respected that pen for years to come

My writing improved and my comprehension

A prize with hidden value beyond measure

That allowed me to convey my inner thoughts. 

To all around it was just a cheap pen,

To me it represented a treasure fairly won

A gateway to expressing thought on paper

Writing many stories, essays and poems.

~

Experiences of life, love and growing up.

  ~

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

This prompt was quite easy for me to answer, as I had already answered something like it in a poetry group Margaret and I were both members of seven years ago. I wrote this poem which is based on an actual event that happened during my school days. The fountain pen I won did give me a lot of service over the years. Sadly, I can’t remember exactly what happened to the pen but the main section of this writing prompt is answered within this poem. I think I probably outgrew or lost this wonderful prize that was responsible for inspiring and enabling me to put my thoughts on paper over many years since.

The Germination of Significance from an Insignificant Seed

PANDEMONIUM AND PERSUASIONS

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WEDNESDAY 31st MARCH 2021

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..

Prompt ~ PANDEMONIUM AND PERSUASIONS

March 2021 Writing Prompts

PANDEMONIUM AND PERSUASIONS

by John Yeo

I sit here alone on the shore, head in hands,

The horizon promises escape to far distant lands.

There is no hope at all, the future looks bleak,

I feel I am nothing, a microscopic freak.

Somehow nothing goes right, however I try,

If I had the power and wings, I would fly.

~

Fly away to anywhere to seek answers to life,

There is no hope in the sky to undo my strife.

No hope on the beach where I sit full of grief,

The seabed is crumbling with horror beneath.

There are no answers forthcoming, I have the impression

That will lift the heavy cloud of my inmost depression.

Then a seagull alights, a handsome solitary bird

~

Bringing life to the shore foraging without a word.

News Flash:Bird flu will bring the next pandemic.

I need compassion with love bringing hope

I look to the sky with my faith, to revoke

These feelings of dread and I whisper a prayer

For something beyond,  for someone to care.

My mind is a whirl of sad inmost thought.

~

No answers were given to the questions I sought.

I drift back to my childhood of long sunny days,

Flowers were everywhere along the lanes and byways

The skies were blue and the sun always shone,

The birds sang sweetly, it was good to be young.

Then love and heartbreak and love once again.

I sit here alone and cry to allay the pain,

Soaking up the power of pandemonium and persuasions.




© Written by John Yeo~ All rights reserved.

Note …. This poem is a work of pure fiction and in no way relates to my personal reactions to the pandemonium and persuasions that will always be the lot of some unfortunate people.

THE FIRES OF LIFE

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TUESDAY 30th MARCH 2021

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..

Prompt ~ A smattering of smoke

March 2021 Writing Prompts

THE FIRES OF LIFE

by John Yeo

We will let the fires of life burn out and in the dying embers we will sit and dream.

We will remember the fire that burned through our minds and bodies when we fell in love.

Then the fire of ambition when we first started college, the knowledge that added fuel to ignite our dreams.

The fires of protest, when we held firm beliefs and we were prepared to die for our feelings.

The fires that burned fiercely in our minds as we aged and ignited the fires of freedom in the minds of our children.

Proudly we have shared the fire and watched our children ignite the flames in the next generation.

Dreamily as the fire of our lives glows dimly,  and the embers burn out, we ponder on our final destination, burial or cremation?  Ashes to ashes, dust to dust?

Suddenly, shouts of joy as our Grandchildren run towards the smattering of smoke from the dwindling bonfire. ‘Grandpa and Grandma; wake up and come inside before you get cold when the fire burns out!’

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

PUFFY-EYED PIXIES

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MONDAY 29th MARCH

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..

Prompt ~PUFFY-EYED PIXIES

March 2021 Writing Prompts

Image ~ Wikipaedia.com

PUFFY-EYED PIXIES

by John Yeo

This is the place where the dream was created,

A peaceful glade deeply shaded by trees. 

Where answers by the puffy-eyed pixies were related.

~

After daylight along a shady path a surprise awaited

The discovery of the pixies always happy to please

This is the place where the dream was created.

~

A tree-lined path subject to many myths was located

Fairies and little people living here with their ease 

Where answers by the puffy-eyed pixies were related.

~

The sad puzzle of a man with an ass head frustrated,

Rumoured to be magically transformed by degrees.

This is the place where the dream was created.

~

The Bottom of this conundrum was never clearly stated,

The Fairy King and Queen did their best to appease

Where answers by the puffy-eyed pixies were related.

~

The pixies in the dream Shakespeare demonstrated, 

Midsummer night, puffy-eyes, shady, well-pleased.

This is the place where the dream was created

Where answers by the puffy-eyed pixies were related.

~

 © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

MARCH MIST

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SUNDAY 28th MARCH 2021

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..

Prompt ~ MARCH MIST

March 2021 Writing Prompts

MARCH MIST

by John Yeo

  Dawn breaks on a misty March day, frost fills the air and colours the pathway through the fields with a grey-white film. Early March shadows loom and recede along the hedgerows, cast by shrubs and trees. There’s not a sound to shatter the icy silence of the mist-shrouded morning. Then, a deep throated warble sounds from a nearby bush, a fusion of birdsong begins to break the silence, melodiously rising and falling to colour the bleakness of the scene. A Blackbird song signals a new day dawning. The rich quality of the tuneful sound loudly resounds and can be heard for miles around. A natural sound, designed as a territorial warning. He whistles and warbles sweet sound, smooth trilling notes with melodious perfection. 

 Slowly more birds add sound to the dawn chorus; a cacophony of melodic, richly outspoken, deep throated choristers soon penetrates through the March mist.

  Then without warning the smooth flow of notes is broken. A cry of alarm sounds and many wings flap as birds take to the air to escape from the danger of feathers or fur. Their natural defense against man, predatory feline or hawk. When all danger is past the beautiful dawn chorus resumes in a mass of sound. Tuneful and melodic, with perfect clarity. The morning March mist lifts, as a watery sun breaks through the clouds, spreading warmth.

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.