I had my bag of goodies for the ghoulies,
ghosts, hobgoblins and the rest. The door bell sounds,
I answer it, see no one for a moment.
From total gloom a voice booms: Trick or treat!.
An adult voice, I realise. Into the light,
the man who calls each month - a local lottery
to help our hospice - grins sheepishly.
It seems I've chosen the wrong night!
he says. I've had to run the gauntlet just a bit!
A skeleton, just six or seven, I would guess,
starts up the path, then noticing my caller - who
is more than average tall - turns tail and runs
back to his mum, and is not seen again.
They were my only callers all last night.
The moon petals the sea. Rose petals the sea. Stone sea. Stone petals. Rose petals of stone. Stone rising before me. Sea moves. How moves...
It all depends, you see, how you go about it. And that I cannot tell you, for that will be dictated by you and by you knowing your friends...
FROM mindlove misery the intriguing suggestion that we use as inspiration a song from the decade of our birth. For me that's the thirt...
A Birthday in April ~ Wordsworth Prompt from The Imaginary Garden with Real Toads (The first of three posts which will celebrate the l...
Hello everyone who follows David King (My Father). On behalf of the family this post is to let you know that Dad sadly passed away, peacefu...