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

I sit here alone on the shore, head in hands,

The horizon promises escape to far distant lands.

There is no hope at all, the future looks bleak,

I feel I am nothing, a microscopic freak.

Somehow nothing goes right, however I try,

If I had the power and wings, I would fly.


Fly away to anywhere to seek answers to life,

There is no hope in the sky to undo my strife.

No hope on the beach where I sit full of grief,

The seabed is crumbling with horror beneath.

There are no answers forthcoming, I have the impression

That will lift the heavy cloud of my inmost depression.

Then a seagull alights, a handsome solitary bird


Bringing life to the shore foraging without a word.

News Flash:Bird flu will bring the next pandemic.

I need compassion with love bringing hope

I look to the sky with my faith, to revoke

These feelings of dread and I whisper a prayer

For something beyond,  for someone to care.

My mind is a whirl of sad inmost thought.


No answers were given to the questions I sought.

I drift back to my childhood of long sunny days,

Flowers were everywhere along the lanes and byways

The skies were blue and the sun always shone,

The birds sang sweetly, it was good to be young.

Then love and heartbreak and love once again.

I sit here alone and cry to allay the pain,

Soaking up the power of pandemonium and persuasions.

© Written by John Yeo~ All rights reserved.

Note …. This poem is a work of pure fiction and in no way relates to my personal reactions to the pandemonium and persuasions that will always be the lot of some unfortunate people.



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

The sun rises in a blaze of magenta coloured glory,

All over the earth

Children are born and breathe life.

The sun circles the globe bringing warmth, 

Survival and intellectual growth.


People live, love, bathe in the rays 

A life begins as the sun starts the day

Lighting the clouds and bringing.

Birth, Life, Joy,

 Tears, Sadness, Happiness.


 A magical magenta twilight heralds the sunset, 

‘You see, one loves the sunset when one is so sad’

One dreads a magenta sunrise 

when the daybreak arrives.


Depression when the balance of the mind is upset,

The day seems black, nothing to feel,

Night brings sleep and stilled thought.

‘You see, one loves the sunset when one is so sad.’

Happiness, when the balance is in harmony,

The day is full of sadness with care and black thought.

The sunset brings magenta twilight when sadness retreats,

‘You see, one loves the sunset when one is so sad.’


© Written by John Yeo~ All rights reserved.

‘You see, one loves the sunset when one is so sad.’ 

 A quote from  ‘The Little Prince’ written by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry


A prompt response for ~ Inspiration Monday: NOISE MIRAGE

 Images courtesy of


by John Yeo

    “Mr, Eagleton, I am afraid your hearing is well below par and deteriorating rapidly. My advice to you is to take advantage of one of our superior hearing aids, and enjoy what little hearing you have left.”
  The Consultant looked grave as he uttered these words solemnly. “I understand you are a professional musician and your hearing is extremely important to you. Sadly I have to inform you of the fact that you will be profoundly deaf within months.”

  Charles sat stunned in the surgery, unable to move, replaying the words over and over again in his mind. Like the sounds of a funeral dirge, marking the end of his career and his livelihood.

     “Is there no hope of any form of treatment that will counteract the diagnosis? Anything at all, I would even consider a double ear transplant. Please, Doctor; I will pay anything for the chance of a cure.”

     “I’m sorry Mr. Eagleton, there is nothing to be done. My advice is to enjoy every sound you hear as if it is the last sound you will ever hear. Sadly anything you seem to hear in future will be chords and musical passages from your lifetime of musical memories. Something of a noise mirage. Memories of music replaying in your consciousness forever.”

  Charles Eagleton allowed this news to penetrate to the centre of his very being.

     “May I use your toilet please Doctor?”

   “Of course Mr. Eagleton, you know which door by now.” replied the Audiologist, smiling.

    Charles Eagleton locked the door of the large well-fitted disabled toilet and morosely sat on the seat cover. ‘There’s no point in going on; I can’t forever rely on music by mirage! I had a feeling this would happen, good job I thought things through. Vincent Van Gogh was right. What good are ears if you can’t hear anything, I might as well cut the useless appendages off. Maybe I will be able to get some hearing on the other side.’

  He pulled a large sharp kitchen knife from his attaché case and stood before the bathroom mirror poised to cut his ears off and perhaps he thought, ‘I may die of the pain and loss of blood.

   Suddenly the beautiful melodic sound of Beethoven’s seventh symphony resounded through his consciousness, filling his mind with the power of the music.
‘Of course, Beethoven was profoundly deaf at the end, yet he still produced such beautiful music. Perhaps there is something in the theory of a noise mirage, taking the form of beautiful music.’

 He quickly replaced the knife in his briefcase and walked into the consulting room.
   “Thanks Doctor for being so frank; I can see I will have to make some life-altering plans now.”

   “Of course Mr. Eagleton; we will be here to help in every possible way. Make another appointment with my secretary, and we will work together. Goodbye!”

“Thanks, Doctor, I will. Goodbye,”


Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserveddu


Images Courtesy of

A prompt response for ~ Inspiration Monday: Tour-de-Farce


by John Yeo

    The caravans were parked in a circle on the village green, strategically encircling a large canvas structure, affectionately known to all as the big top. The circus had come to town!  Overnight the village green was transformed, closed in, with a huge area roped off.

  A siren shattered the calm of the village as a paramedic arrived, just in time to deliver a healthy bonny boy with a powerful pair of lungs.

 Billy arrived, born in a caravan; his arrival coincided just as the evening performance was about to begin. His Mum and Dad were professional Clowns

    Postnatal depression soon kicked in; Billy’s Mum was clearly affected by giving birth. Her husband was sympathetic, although he was suffering from a long-term depression himself.

   The circus was always on tour, village to village, town to town, a different background to get used to all the time.

 Dogs guarded the children while the family worked in the big top. Friends; all circus  performers, Acrobats, Jugglers Tightrope Walkers and Dancers all took responsibility to care for the children.

  The Ringmaster ruled the roost, travelling, always travelling; another week, another town as the circus toured the country.

  Education on the move, Billy attended a different school in every town the circus visited. Mum and Dad taught him all they  knew. How to be funny! How to apply makeup to please the customers.

  Uncle Coco committed suicide by overdosing on antidepressants

  Mum and Dad were more sorrowful than ever. They practiced a new water routine to keep the customers happy. The makeup  told a different story as the painted smiles hide the truth. The matinee audience roared with laughter on the day of Uncle Coco’s funeral.

  Billy found the funeral sad as the hearse delivered the coffin containing Uncle Coco’s remains that were quickly consigned to the flames. Uncle Coco’s ashes travelled through many small towns until the touring circus reached his home where his ashes were ceremoniously buried in the local cemetery.

  Another week another small town, the circus tour was never ending. The big top always full, to bursting.

 Billy began to grow up fast and sharp, he became a quick-witted, sensitive young man, following in his father’s footsteps.

 A very gifted clown who knew how to make people happy with his funny routine.

 Then one sad day in the life of Billy arrived with a tremendous shock, Rover his trusty Labrador dog who, went with him everywhere, died suddenly. Billy was devastated at this turn of events, crying uncontrollably. The time for the show arrived and Billy’s father was desperately trying to calm him. As he applied makeup to Billy’s face, the ringmaster arrived and insisted he take his place in the circus ring.

With these words his, Father sent him to the circus ring.

“Laugh Billy, Laugh! You are a clown to fool around and make people laugh. You will always work in the circus on a perpetual Tour-de-farce. No one will ever understand the tears of a clown.”

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved