It is May, and livelihood is not a golden beast

I do wonder how one of my ancestors, who lived a life centred around tending her cattle, may see my screen-filled days. It would probably baffle her as to how what I do is work.* It was from such a wondering that I imagined the scene in Listen to me, you golden beauty. This poem

Expectations, agitations

You want it and you think you want it. You say to yourself you are making strides towards it and you plan and scribble little plans and more plans, goals and more goals, why power and visualizing the outcome. What else? Porridge in a bowl, waiting and seeds. 26 or 27/11/2018 — I’ve started consuming

I could do with a harvest moon

The harvest moon shines for itself and the corn we no longer reap or sow, We cultivate the blue screens. 24/09/2018 — With a turn towards the autumnal, the sense of harvest comes into the air. This poem from 2018 echoes ideas about work in the modern age in contrast with a more agrarian past

Another short story

ScrapsYard.com | Congratulations | Forward this Picture Here is another short story completed for the exercise of completion. This tale developed in response to a balloon in a florist’s van. I’m also love to hear your ideas for story prompts. Please share them with me by dropping a line below. Hand-tie Harry arrives at 11am

Listen to me, you golden beauty

Livelihood If you were a beast and it was May, I would say Listen to me, you golden beauty, we must walk through those flames. Do not fear. Shhh, calm, calm your hooves. Calm your trample, trampling. Look at me. With my hands to the muzzle I lead the prosperity of my summer yield, garlanded

I thought it my apprenticeship

Allegiance When others mocked you I stood firm and said, Your vision would be for our betterment. In happy fealty I volunteered, Believing your requests would teach a path Worthwhile for more than monetary gain; I thought it my apprenticeship’s terrain. Your fair-minded way inspired me. I trusted the value of your guarantee. This confidence

The Best Instruction

While looking for some entertaining archival posts, I came across this micro-poem from a year ago: The Best Instruction You might receive an email telling you such ‘n such. Don’t worry! Take no action! May your week include more emails that require less action. — Twitter: @BeadedQuill Facebook: BeadedQuill Books: In the Ocean: a year

Overcast Eclipse

A blazing sickle of the sun cut a toothless smile unseen by rushing city men caught up in the Mile. Thick cloud across the southern skies obscured the time majestic when darkness peaked – nine thirty-five: a normal day of business. 21/3/15 — This poem was inspired by the solar eclipse mania of last week

the rains trigger migration of hartebeests in cravats

“To the Valleys” describes the return of hard-working hartebeests who hope to woo brides back in their home village. I wrote this poem last year after “I do. Do you?” another imagined narrative about a wedding that did not come to pass. — Twitter: @BeadedQuill Facebook: BeadedQuill Books available through BeadedQuill’s Blurb Bookshop

Working Girls

How am I supposed to compete with Nicole, Fully Experienced who is able to stroke false lashes onto her eyelids rather than lose the wily moults to the back of a chair? Nicole, with her cream of know-how, certainly has a drawer of négligée and suitable apparatus for pranking Unlike 8 pairs of cotton briefs, stitched