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

August writing prompts


by John Yeo

The motor cruiser was steeped in luxury

Every need of the occupant was catered for

The sea would always be a sizable sanctuary.


The Captain headed off on this voyage in a hurry

The passenger laid back watching the receding shore

The motor cruiser was steeped in luxury.


The wind on the waves blew calm and blustery

As the boat left for distant parts to explore

The sea would always be a sizable sanctuary.


The rich man had left the pandemic instantly

News broke of the deaths and spread, so sure

The motor cruiser was steeped in luxury.


The awful truth of the dangers and the discovery

The symptoms were much too plain to ignore

The sea would always be a sizable sanctuary.


His medical team monitored his health constantly

As the wealthy man gazed from his position offshore,

The motor cruiser was steeped in luxury.

The sea would always be a sizable sanctuary.


© Written by John Yeo


TUESDAY 14th JULY 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..


by John Yeo

‘Don’t tell me it’s fate.

I know it’s sad to relate, but I had to do it before it was too late.

After all, I am getting on and I’ve reached my elderly years.

The consequences of holding off would engender fears

Spending the rest of my life with the deep frustration of not accomplishing a dream.

 My instincts told me when to act, don’t hesitate by using polite tact.

Take the bull by the horns and never stop to look back. 

Hesitation is a stumbling block to the accomplishment of long held schemes. 

Some would say the only way forward is to follow your dreams.

Seek the answers by studying every aspect exceptionally well,

Weigh up the pros and cons and feel your confidence swell.

Each minute one spends in dithering and simple procrastination 

Is a stumbling block that will deny me the satisfaction.

Finally when time comes together and it begins to gestate 

The last thing I need after planning and scheming the wait

Is for me to respond, yeah that’s great!  (Don’t tell me it’s Fate).’

© Written by John Yeo





  It was rodeo day on the ranch, everyone came in fancy dress.

The costumes were magnificent from Nell Gwynn to good Queen Bess.  

  A rider was dressed as a sailor making waves on a bucking bronco. 

  Portly King Henry the eighth, rode a pony and trap.

The star of the show was a feathered Cavalier riding on a fierce bum steer, spinning a lariat.

© Written by John Yeo

(64 WORDS)



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..


by John Yeo

A peaceful scene soon lit by the dawn.

As creatures gathered by the waterhole 

A pitch black night slowly began to reform


The rising sun picked out the animals drawn

A mother nurses and shields her foal

A peaceful scene soon lit by the dawn.


Predators waiting prepare to storm

As thirst is slaked without control.

A pitch black night slowly began to reform.


Green hills reflect the rising sun and adorn

Antelope Impala, Zebra joining the shoal

The peaceful scene was soon lit by dawn.


Sounds break the silence, a picture redrawn

Stampede and flight from the watering hole

A pitch black night slowly began to reform

The unpeaceful scene soon lit by dawn.

© Written by John Yeo




I worked very hard to get over the blight, 

Then to fashion a quill that would actually write.

Pick the feather up and begin to sharpen

The end into a perfect nib.


An inkwell full of Indian ink, 

Jet black and smooth almost velvet in texture, 

Next a parchment that was specially prepared

To record the unfolding events.


The seers and prophets had forecast the end

Of the world as we know it is nigh,

They say the information was revealed,

From prophetic knowledge of old.


The sands of time have passed by the mark,

When we should be part of the past

The star in the North is still burning

The light is overcoming the dark.


Why is the end of the world so late?

I measured the sands and counted the days, 

The solar and lunar forecasters will state

Scientific evidence will blame it on fate. 


Copyright © Written by John Yeo, All rights reserved.



Poetry on a tragedy. I was asked by an old friend to resurrect one of my poems to reflect a sad addiction. After some minor adjustments I came up with this seven year old piece. Love ❤️ and Peace ☮️ to all


by John Yeo

The hook is firmly implanted, 

The wheels of fortune are spinning.

Another win, my eyes are blurred 

The jackpot is there to be won


My arms repetitively pulling the handle

 The bright lights flash, the die is cast 

Clinking, clanking, coins inserted,

 Another small win to add to the fun.


More change required, I cannot leave, 

This machine owes me a jackpot,

 I signal a man who brings change.

I decline food until I have won.


Wow! That was close, the tumblers stopped, 

Two cherries and a bell on display 

Three cherries and I win the jackpot.

I scoop another bunch of coins and go on.


Suddenly I play with my last few coins, 

The jackpot is still nearly won.

If only I had a few more coins

 I would be able to continue the fun.


I beg the man on the next machine 

To advance me a very small loan.

Sorry he says, I am far too busy.

The jackpot still has to be won


© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.


FRIDAY 5th JUNE 2020


by John Yeo

The entire head took the message

Then responded with a united reply,

The nose addressed the eyes,

I will balance the glasses

You read the words.

I will sniff out the story, 

Pass the result on to the brain.

The brain will interpret 

The meaning of the words.

The magic of the poetry

Will be expressed by the mouth.


The ears will balance the glasses

Listen carefully to the response, 

And adjust the result accordingly.

The eyes looked down on the nose

We have no need of your sniffing,

We are reputedly 

The windows of the soul.

The light of truth

Shining directly to the brain

A shining light reflecting 

The light of creativity.


Then in unison the ears chorused

Without your glasses you are blind 

We can hear the music of the words.

The mouth joined in the conversation

A very wise mouth indeed! 

You must leave room for interpretation,

Each mind is unique! 

Together we make up the individual

Striving for unique expression,

Guidance is just another opinion

Generated with respect.


© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved 

   I remember an unwilling, uninspiring English language teacher several years ago, who demonstrated some individual views on life that would have been highly criticised today. His major goal in life at the time was a high degree of self-promotion. His outward role was to attempt to instil in his pupils, (subjects), an interest in writing and appreciating poetry. He would start a session by reading his personal examples of poetry, then invite comments, which were obviously expected to be positive. The class would then be invited to write a poem on a set subject. An hour later our teacher would sit and take them apart piece by piece. The session would end by him handing out a subject to take away and use as an impetus to write a piece of poetry. When I wrote the above poem, I was influenced by some of his views and his comments. I included a couple of sentences that to this day I hope he noticed and took away with him. 

 Of course I’ve reworded and rejigged some of the words, since I resurrected it. When I look back, I can’t help thinking perhaps he wasn’t a bad teacher as he certainly stung me into action.


LUCKY NUMBER ~ A little revision with a slight deviation from the usual subjective vision. Take a four-leafed clover and break off a leaf then subject yourself to much derision. Such is the usual consequence of breaking the mold.

by John Yeo

There were three witches stirring the broth
Of the cauldron of fabulous fortune.
Three wise men stared into crystal balls.
A trio of wizards studied the runes.
Three answers to my question gave birth
To my tri-universal problematic equation.


The significant number with firm proof
You will need to follow wherever you roam,
A number that will always be with you;
The key to your future in a third dimension
Wherever you roam in Sea, Sky or Earth.
Look to the cycle of a mystical threesome.


Your lucky number will be with you forever
Engendering three branches of fortune
Three spins; Good, Bad or Indifferent.
Look to the leaves of a four leafed Clover
Then break of a leaf and feel the power.
Of this harsh sometimes brutal world
Where luck lies with the accident of birth.


© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.


Half. Way. There. It’s all downhill from here.

For today’s prompt, write a prediction poem. Make a prediction. Write about another person’s correct or incorrect prediction. Or, you know, be unpredictable.

Monday 15th April 2019

Robert Lee Brewer’s Poem-A-Day on Writers Digest


by John and Margaret Yeo

The Weather forecast is dire;                  
 I am sure the weather will get better:
Continual rain will never stop;              
We will probably not get a drop:

The crops will fail, we are set to starve;
The predictions are overstated:
Global warming is taking its toll;
We will all eat well and survive on a roll:

The world will become a gigantic desert;
Our scientists are all very clever:
The soil will dry and become sand;
They will find ways to make a stand:

The oil will run out, we will grind to a halt;
We will discover new fuels to survive:
The Earth will become dust with millions hungry;
New foods will arrive to feed our young:

An asteroid will collide and wipe us out;
We will all take a trip to outer Space:
Our people need to cling to pessimism;
We will all survive on our innate optimism:

For every pessimist there is an optimist.

© Written by John and Margaret Yeo ~ All rights reserved.


For today’s prompt, write a view poem. Wherever you’re at, you have a view: maybe of a river or sunset. Maybe of a cubicle or a copy machine. Even the blind have a view of darkness, nothingness, or some other -ness. And that’s just being literal, because everyone has views on sports, politics, poetry, etc.

Saturday 13th April 2019


Robert Lee Brewer’s Poem-A-Day on Writers Digest

Image courtesy of pixabay.com


(A view of colonisation)
By John Yeo

Time is like many grains of sand
Each grain is an aeon of a life-span,
our land is old and contains
Our heritage, our past, our forefathers remains.

We befriended and welcomed you here,
You shared our land and resources.
We welcomed your views and new ways,
A surrender in peace when you took control.

You thrive and get rich from our land,
Our nation has customs, a glorious past.
We worship our Gods, our dreams are real
We have mysterious age-old ways and beliefs.

Please respect our customs, enjoy our ways
Do not claim our art or our heritage
Respect our culture, it is all we have left
To sustain us and pass on, for our children.

© Written by John Yeo All rights reserved.

Image courtesy of pixabay.com