A prompt response for Master Class ~ Assignment ~ Mused Mourning



by John Yeo

The black-edged cards were delivered to many friends and family in distant parts, announcing the sad news, with the date and time of the funeral.
The deceased man’s wife had tears in her eyes, as she checked the wording.
The children of the couple, rallied round her, sympathetically consoling her, while holding back their personal tears.
There was no positive response over the next few days, just guarded replies expressing deepest sympathy.

The day of the funeral arrived and the dead man’s wishes were followed as the service in the little village church took place in his desired format.

We were gathered around the grave. Thirty people, composed of the close family and friends of the deceased, stood back as the priest mouthed the last rites. Some were openly crying as the poetic words were expressed over the remains of someone who was once a respected member this small community.

My mind drifted over the life of this unusual person.
His childhood spent in an unsettling wartime environment. Followed by a spell in a reasonably happy home, with brothers and then newly acquired stepsisters.
Then came Boarding school and the trials of learning in a regimented environment.

Youth, with the challenging teenage years, and the swinging sixties, with blue jeans and rock and roll. Girls and dances: Everlasting love, followed by several broken hearted partings.

Love and marriage, fulfilled with happy children and the many ups and downs of
a successful career, followed by a happy retirement.

My mind continued to rove over the peaks and troughs of this familiar man’s life.

How could he have found the dream, and lived with peace and contentment having experienced so many peaks and troughs?

My inner self, placed myself forward in time. Would my life’s end reflect the life I have led, or would my demise be just another death, mourned by the few, and forgotten by the many?

Perhaps if I follow my path through life and take life as it arrives?
My mind continued to drift, musing over the obvious realization that a life lived has already passed. The past is fixed and unchanging.

I will certainly live life while I have a life to live.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.



This is a latest Picture it and Write prompt from Emilia’s blog ~ 22ndNovember 2015


As usual the image is supplied and credited by Ermilia.


by John Yeo

Many candles were burning at the funerals.

An assassin was gunned down by police after a shocking murder. In an act of suicidal determination, he had pulled the trigger on a well loved respected man.
Masses of tearful people were stunned. Five hundred people were gathered together, to express their sadness at the death of a heroic saviour of the town. A scientist who had perfected an antidote for poison in the water, that had been killing the children.

Many candles were burning at the funerals.

For days the local population had been suffering from severe symptoms of poisoning, many children were affected first, and several died. It was thought to be a severe form of food poisoning, that affected the nervous system and had a fatal effect on the children.

Many candles were burning at the funerals.

Dr Qwerty was a young scientific investigator, called in by the town council to investigate. After extensive tests he had pinned the problem down to the water supply and developed a revolutionary antidote that restored the water to its original pristine freshness.
When the final report came to light, it was revealed, Dr Qwerty had discovered high levels of lead in the drinking water, and he came to the conclusion that the water had been deliberately contaminated.

Many candles were burning at the funerals.

The unknown assassin was a member of a feared team of mercenary killers hired to cast doubt on the deceased, in an amazing double bluff.
Some pessimistic folk blamed the unstable political situation, and maintained that lead was deliberately introduced into the water supply by persons unknown, in a cold hearted attempt to create unrest and sow seeds of doubt.

Many candles were burning at the funerals.


Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.




By John Yeo

Mrs Taylor was a widow who always dressed in black. For thirty years she had worn black clothes, a black armband and a black scarf covering her head. I once asked why? This was her reply :

“My husband Jack was a sailor, who perished in the cruel sea. We threw black wreaths in the sea when he died. In the depths of the ocean there is no night or day. The sun never penetrates and there is eternal black. I wear black to remember Jack, When I die I will be with him. We will be together in eternal black.”


My response to this weeks 100 word challenge the word ~  BLACK

Written by John Yeo ©  All rights reserved


This is the latest Picture, from the picture it and write series from Ermilia’s blog


silent dying by laura makabresku on Flickr

By John Yeo

The peace of the moment.
Reflected in Stillness and Silence,
The shroud tries to conceal
The awful tragic truth.
A young life lived, so short,
So sweet and full of laughter.
The curse of the cancer that eats away,
The frailty of our human defences.

Many a care you faced in a life,
Shrugged away with the ease of youth.
You lived a life in an enquiring way,
Never realising the awful truth.
Many tears have now drowned the moment,
Your short life has sadly expired.
The cancer sapped your strong free will
Until the fight for life back-fired.

Now you lie here, at peace,
We all find it so hard to bear,
Our frailty shows in the tears we shed,
As we say goodbye with a prayer.
Life is a passage from here to somewhere,
A stage in the eternal journey.
A short sweet life has left today
Thanks for the life-long memory.

Copyright (c). Written by John Yeo. All rights reserved.