Copyright © Written by John Yeo
It was raining outside, the sky was gray and her mood matched the weather. The washing machine was working overtime and the cleaning was in process. I entered the house on tip-toe as I felt the tension of a mundane rainy day penetrating our home.
Suddenly there was a knock on the door and a man stood there with the biggest bunch of flowers you could ever imagine and a pre-wrapped box of chocolates. Her face lit up, she looked at me and cried. Ah, my darling.
SMALL TOWN LIFE
I remember growing up in a very small town in England as a youth. There was never much to do in the evenings and we would congregate on the local street corners to meet with our friends and chat. Many of the older generation would, Tut-Tut, and insist that we were meeting to cause trouble. Then came an understanding adult who started a youth club. This was a brilliant idea and we successfully met in a local village hall for dances and many other pastimes. This solved the problem of the people who were upset about our earlier street life.
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Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo. All rights reserved
In response to~TOWN~
This is the latest picture prompt from Ermilia,s Blog
http://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/
MASKS
By John Yeo
Every situation required a new specially adapted mask to portray the feelings outwardly that were expected from a growing close knit family. Sometimes her face would light up with happiness at a certain milestone. The first words, the first step, then there would be an almost natural expression of maternal pride and satisfaction.
Then at times the face would be a gentle face, that masked the tears inside, after a hurtful thoughtless cruel remark hit hard, penetrating to the core of her being.
Many times the angry, irate mask would be donned in response to a perceived threat to the children or the home. Then the protective mask would be applied and the voice would be altered to reflect the anger and to defend her family.
All her world was a stage and she developed a mask to reflect the required response to every possible situation. Instantly adaptable, instantly altered.
It would only be after many years of caring and protection in the background, often taken for granted. A Mother would be lost and sincerely mourned and missed.
Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo~All rights reserved
BLUE GRASS
By John Yeo
I must admit I have heard very little Blue-Grass country music here in the UK. Although I like some country music, I am an avid classical music fan.
I understand there is a British Bluegrass music association with a large following here.
I have seen many images of the beautiful Kentucky blue grass country region, with the impressive horses grazing on the beautiful luscious grass.
Music is born from such beauty.
Clock-watching and preening, putting the final touches to my appearance. I have a very important appointment for the job of a lifetime. I have made my preparations and rehearsed the interview. I arrive at the destination very confident, but LATE!! How can it be? I did everything right to the last degree. I trudge back home and instantly the reason becomes clear , my large usually highly accurate clock is 20 minutes slow. The battery is low and the time is wrong, I could kick myself. Why didn’t I heed the low battery warning by checking my cell–phone? It was on charge in the bedroom.
This is the latest picture prompt from Ermilia,s Blog
Image supplied and credited by Ermila
There are times during the very hot season when the bush is very dry, as dry as a tinder-box. A very slight spark can cause a destructive moving brush-fire that travels very, very fast as the flames take hold. The fire rages out of control, the fire-service, using aeroplanes, water-bomb the head of the inferno to try to stop the fire in its tracks.
The flames light up the sky, and we drive away with many other cars racing away from the moving, travelling wall of flame, that makes an incredible picture of the sky on fire.
As the sun sets in all its glory the fire turns night into day.
Written by John Yeo (c) All rights reserved.
photo credit: Viola & Cats =^..^= via photopin cc
Via http://first50.wordpress.com/
KITTENS
There is a heartless unfeeling cruel person somewhere~Hiding~A cat-lover who loved a kitten, then fed and loved the cat~Then couldn’t find love for her babies~I discovered a cardboard box on my doorstep~Warily I approached, then there was a movement as two beautiful kitten faces popped up~I knew I was lost.
For today’s prompt, write a “calling it a day” poem. Some people might call this “Miller time,” others may refer to it as “closing time.” Just remember: Don’t call it a day until you put it in a poem.
“CALLING IT A DAY”
By John Yeo
Our poetical musing is over and done, and we finish by calling it a day.
April dawned with the challenge,
We met to ponder and think.
April showers brought showers of words
Poetical showery verbose days,
Followed by more time to ponder
On things that matter to poets.
The war is over, the battle is done,
Thirty pieces of art composed.
A month of prompts have been tackled
With our poetry to build and complete
The month of April is over.
Now is the time to call it a day.
Copyright © Written by John Yeo.
All rights reserved.
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