A TIMELESS APPROACH

WEDNESDAY 30th SEPTEMBER 2020

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..

Today’s prompt ~ A TIMELESS APPROACH

A TIMELESS APPROACH

by John yeo

  The world is threatened by a new virus that seems to be indiscriminately killing many people who come into contact;

with its deadly infectious spoors. 

Everywhere people are standing and fighting with every possible weapon at their disposal.

A timeless approach.

~

  People dying all over the world, suffering in agonising ways

this disease kills indiscriminately from labourers to Kings; 

Heroes; medical people wearing PPE.

Many public places are closed and forbidden, theatres, cinemas and churches; our prayers are said in private.

A timeless approach.

~

  The fighting guidelines rapidly change, almost on a daily basis, masks worn in public places and social distancing everywhere, observed.

Some scoff at the measures in place and construct conspiracy theories as the fight goes on.

A timeless approach.

~

Pandemics have come and gone, throughout the historical record, instant exchange of information, the touch of a button throughout the world; the modern weapon.

Collating; sharing information through the media is no substitute for hands on care,

A timeless approach.

~

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

PRETTY PLACES

TUESDAY 29th SEPTEMBER 2020

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..

Today’s prompt ~ PRETTY PLACES

PRETTY PLACES

by John Yeo

The bay was picturesque and sombre at the same time. A pretty cove surrounded by rocky cliffs, where the surf gently rippled into rock pools on the sandy shore in the Summer months. Artists and photographers would flock to this location to record the beauty both in the Summer and the dramatic Winter months. Birds were nesting high among the rocky escarpment, flying high in the blue cloud-flecked sky. An odd thing about the higher rocks was the filmy gooey layer of a white substance that was almost ingrained in some of the higher rocks. Sun worshippers and artists alike would be warily dodging a frequent continuous shower of flying guano bombs. There were also frequent dog walkers parading up and down the shoreline. Almost every breed of dog known to man was featured in this constant parade, leaving mounds piled on the immaculate sandy shore. Each of these mounds represented a hastily piled heap of sand that hid the inevitable leavings of our well-fed modern canine population.

The Winter months were equally beautiful, but in total contrast to the serene peaceful splendour of Summer. Dramatic high white-flecked waves pounded the shore. Artists and photographers were still drawn here to record the beauty. Grey skies and heavy rain forewarned fierce storms and hurricane force winds. As huge waves battered the shore they washed in tons of plastic accompanied by much other detritus of varying description. There was a long continuous mound of assorted rubbish that had piled up slowly over the Autumn and Winter Months.

Spring arrived with new growth of the salt-loving plants and shrubs along the shoreline around the bay. The birds returned to the cliffs to breed again, and a few concerned people began to clear away the washed up rubbish along the beach.

News broke that an oil tanker had overturned in the ocean offshore and it wasn’t long before a black tarry substance began to be washed up on the sandy beach. The seabirds were badly affected and the yellow sand quickly turned to a deep excreta-shaded brown. The pretty beach was quickly closed to the public to enable a cleanup to take place.

The good news was there were several more unspoilt pretty places just along the coast for the enjoyment of everyone.

© Written by John Yeo

CHIVALROUS KNIGHTS IN POLKA DOTTED TIGHTS

MONDAY 28th SEPTEMBER 2020

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..

Today’s prompt ~ CHIVALROUS KNIGHTS IN POLKA DOTTED TIGHTS 

CHIVALROUS KNIGHTS IN POLKA DOTTED TIGHTS 

by John Yeo

Chivalrous knights in polka dotted tights

Rode to the rescue of ladies in trousers

Wielding their lances by days or by nights.

~

They rode into town on their motorbikes 

They were spurred on by natural arousers

Chivalrous knights in polka dotted tights.

~

Leather and polka dots gleamed in the lights 

As the atmosphere engendered carousers

Wielding their lances by days or by nights.

~

The defence of virtue resulted in fights

As alcohol and music fuelled the powers

Of chivalrous knights in polka dotted tights.

~

Heady colourful polka dots added to the sights 

The female trousers turned on the browsers

Wielding their lances by days or by nights.

~

Jousting and fighting for female rights

Honour and chivalry were the powers

Of chivalrous knights in polka dotted tights

Wielding their lances by days or by nights.

~

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

TRYING DAYS, MYSTICAL NIGHTS

SUNDAY 27th SEPTEMBER 2020

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..

Today’s prompt ~ TRYING DAYS, MYSTICAL NIGHTS 

TRYING DAYS, MYSTICAL NIGHTS 

by John Yeo

   The two friends were excited as they were making their plans for an exciting trip. Edward and Fiona were both students at  the School of Oriental and African studies at the University of London. The plan was to travel to Africa and explore as many Ancient religious sites as possible during the Summer break. 

  Edward, who was the son of an army, cavalry officer, was a six foot tall athletic young man, with long red hair and sparkling brown eyes that lit up when he grinned, which was quite often. His rather long nose was somewhat camouflaged by a bushy moustache. A pair of thick plastic spectacles balanced on the end of the said nose, completed his facial adornments.

  Fiona, his friend and would-be travelling companion, was the daughter of a wealthy industrialist with a large manor house in Hampshire. Fiona was a bubbly brunette with medium length, curly hair and deep set dark brown eyes. 

   The expedition was soon set up and the two friends were introduced to Mustafa, their tour guide and his team of six bearers who were to accompany them on the jungle trek. He was a thin man, with short, tightly curled hair and a face covered in the pock marks of an early dose of chickenpox. His eyes were bright and reflected a friendly, quick intelligence.

  They began to make their way through the dense jungle, following overgrown trails little known to anyone except the natives. The jungle became more and more overgrown and Edward and Fiona were slashing their way along the trails wielding sharp machetes. This was extremely hard work and tempers became frayed and everyone was feeling the pressure of the task ahead; to reach the first temple.

  They arrived at a rock-strewn valley with a gentle river running through. They cleared away vegetation from a glade and set up camp for the night. The first temple on their schedule was just a few hours away.

  That evening around their camp fire, Mustafa and his team entertained the two friends with mystical tales of the religious ceremonies and ritual events that took place in the temple they would be visiting. Fiona and Edward tasted a special brew of leaves that gently calmed them and allowed them to imagine the magical mysterious life of the temple priests.

 The next day’s journey proved even more trying than ever, as the jungle became  denser as they drew nearer to the first temple.

Fiona and Edward were showing the effects of the hard onerous work required to clear their way and started bickering at each other.

  ‘I wasn’t aware this trip would be quite as tough as this.’ grumbled Fiona, ‘I’m not used to this laborious hacking away through a jungle. How come we have to go through this sort of hard work?’

     ‘Don’t blame me!’ retorted Edward. ‘Surely you realised the jungle wouldn’t be easy. I can always arrange for us to be picked up by helicopter when we reach the upcoming temple.’

    ‘How can we pay for that?  Without wiring our parents for funds and risking their reactions to us flunking out of the trip.’ asked Fiona.

    ‘Oh! Let’s just get there, we can decide what to do when we arrive at the temple.’

     An hour later they had reached the temple and were introduced to a number of the temple priests who lived with their families in a small village. The rigours of their journey were quickly forgotten as excitement took over. The structure of the age-old rocks that comprised the walls, with strange carvings and statues everywhere accentuating Mustafa’s mystical tales of the night before.

 The two friends spent the evening participating in the ceremonies and spent hours writing, photographing and recording the mystical temple night.

 The next day they had to come to a decision?

© ~ Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

SUNDAY 27th SEPTEMBER 2020 ~ FLASH FICTION

https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2020/09/26/weekend-writing-prompt-176-zany/

INZANEINESS

by John Yeo

   The doorbell chimed as the family gathered.

A large scruffily-dressed man was revealed on the doorstep wearing a monocle. 

An enormous black bow tie was roughly tied around his neck.

His grey hair, hung down beneath a battered top hat.

‘I’m here for my funeral.’

‘Get out of here!’  was the reaction.

‘I will when you bury me.’  came the zany reply.

(62 WORDS)

MAKING ‘ME’ TIME

SATURDAY 26th SEPTEMBER 2020 ~ A POETIC VISION

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..

Today’s prompt ~ MAKING ‘ME’ TIME

MAKING ‘ME’ TIME

by John Yeo

A tiny spark of dormancy waits for revival,

Encased in a fuzzy cloud of mundanity.

When time and the mixture of conditions allow

Growth begins from within the uncertainty.

A creation of beauty is coming slowly together.

Using my time making ‘Me time.’

~

The beauty and the perils that await the entity,

As a fragile life becomes stronger with time.

The magical moment when a muddle of words

Takes a solid shape in a rough draft outline.

A creation shaped slowly with poetic guidance.

Shaping my time into ‘Me time.’

​~

Words encased with fine vibrancy, line by line.

Ringing through the portals of the poet’s mind.

The entity that grew from a shapeless design.

A thing of beauty with strength and fluidity

Produced and nurtured from a tiny seedling.

A vision; then the growth of beauty in words.

A creation inspired during ‘Me time.’

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

WHEN THE STORM IS RAGING

FRIDAY 25th SEPTEMBER 2020

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..

Today’s prompt ~ WHEN THE STORM IS RAGING

WHEN THE STORM IS RAGING

by John Yeo

The garden is looking wintery and tired

We’re in the depths of Winter here.

The forecasters are frowning in anticipation

A monster weather event is heading our way.

We smile benignly, complacent and calm,

The warnings bells have sounded before,

We’ve always survived in the recent past,

I really must get out in the garden soon

A storm from the East is on the horizon.

Morning dawns with a cold watery sun,

A light sprinkling of snow fell overnight,

Nothing to worry about the sun shines on

The forecasters warn there is more to come.

Snow showers thicken, with blizzards raging,

Thick snow everywhere and  trouble ahead.

Schools close down and transport is cut,

Overnight thick snow has solidly frozen,

Chaos and breakdowns, motorists stranded,

Schools shut down as the storm sets in,

Neighbours and the emergency services

Caring with charity race to the rescue,

The storm from the East has finally arrived.

 © Written by John Yeo 

SHE TOLD THE STORY WITH HER EYES

THURSDAY 24th SEPTEMBER 2020

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..

Today’s prompt ~ SHE TOLD THE STORY WITH HER EYES

Image courtesy of kellysoccasions.co.uk

SHE TOLD THE STORY WITH HER EYES

    Five year old Jenny’s eyes stood out like saucers as the chocolatier got to work. The melted gorgeous river of chocolate rippled down the largest chocolate fountain she’d ever seen. 

     Beneath the river of chocolate that swirled down the fountain ceaselessly, there was an array of things to dip in the delicious chocolatey stream. pretzels, butter shortcake biscuits, strawberries, cherries, pineapple and bananas.

   Jenny’s eyes crinkled and smiled and laughed as she dipped a strawberry in the stream and allowed her fingers to get covered by smooth silky chocolate.

     She suddenly had chocolate all over her face as she began to eat. Her blue eyes stood out like two blue sapphires in a sea of chocolate. 

   ‘Thanks, Mummy and Daddy; I’ve had the best birthday ever.’

   There was a tear in the corner of her Mother’s eyes as she proceeded to kiss the chocolate from around the blue eyes that told the story of a happy little birthday girl.

© Written by John Yeo 

FEELING WEIRDLY CONFIDENT

WEDNESDAY 23rd SEPTEMBER 2020

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..

Today’s prompt ~FEELING WEIRDLY CONFIDENT

FEELING WEIRDLY CONFIDENT (1)

by John Yeo

    I’ve had a coughing fit lately and my temperature’s gone through the roof.

   The advice is to frequently wash my hands and self-isolate for two whole weeks.

   I’ve taken a Coronavirus test and sent it to the laboratories by first class post.

   The world has gone crazy lately. I’ve become more reclusive than a hermit.

   Although I’m bombarded with information from electronic devices and other sources.

   My life will never be the way it used to be, yet I’m feeling weirdly confident.

~

   My cough disappeared along with the pollen; dispersed by flowers and oil seed rape.

   My high temperature disappeared with the heatwave that we had suffered for several days.

   The results from my Coronavirus test came back negative to my huge relief and delight.

    My house has become like an island that is perfect for self-preservation.

    The news gets more depressing as the pandemic spreads around the world.

     Although our lives will never be the same again I can’t help feeling weirdly confident.

© Written by John Yeo 

FEELING WEIRDLY CONFIDENT (2)

by John Yeo

    I’ve had a coughing fit lately and my temperature’s gone through the roof. The advice is to frequently wash my hands and self-isolate for two whole weeks. I’ve taken a Coronavirus test and sent it to the laboratories by first class post. The world has gone crazy lately. I’ve become more reclusive than a hermit. Although I’m bombarded with information from electronic devices and other sources. My life will never be the way it used to be, yet I’m feeling weirdly confident.

    My cough disappeared along with the pollen; dispersed by flowers and oil seed rape. My high temperature disappeared with the heatwave that we had suffered for several days. The results from my Coronavirus test came back negative to my huge relief and delight. My house has become like an island that is perfect for self-preservation. The news gets more depressing as the pandemic spreads around the world. Although our lives will never be the same again I can’t help feeling weirdly confident.

© Written by John Yeo 

IN A CLASS ALL HER OWN

TUESDAY 22nd SEPTEMBER 2020

This is a response to a prompt by ‘M’ on WordPress which can be found by following the link below.

Today’s prompt is, ‘In a class all her own’

IN A CLASS ALL HER OWN

by John Yeo

It was just intellectually incredible

When this super poem came together,

The reaction would surely be inevitable.

My loving thoughts began to be sown.

The first few drafts were absolutely disposable

The meaning cloaked with words so clever 

My mind expressed love with words alone.

A polished accomplishment purely sensual 

An approach to the heart with love forever,

I adore her, she’s in a class all her own.

~

The words make sense, a beautiful parable

Designed from the heart bringing pleasure,

Paying court to a woman in a class of her own.

Our mutual attraction still unbelievable 

Two hearts joined by forces never to sever,

Our lifelines should never again be alone

A super relationship with love conceptual

A single lifeline with words to treasure.

It’s just so intellectually incredible

I adore her, she’s in a class all her own.

© Written by John Yeo