KIT

SATURDAY 24th APRIL 2021 ~ FLASH FICTION ~ POETRY 

This is a response to writing prompt provided by WordPress,com

PROMPT ~ STRANGER


Have you ever had a random encounter or fleeting moment with a stranger that stuck with you?

KIT

by John Yeo

A tribute to a stranger, long gone,

Who brought pleasure to millions.

A man who lived life on the cusp,

Mingling with the theatre fraternity. 

His work shone with amazing brilliance.

~

Comedy, Drama, History and Tragedy.

A sweet pleasure to read and enjoy.

A man who followed his instincts

Using every trick in the book to employ       

The wonder of the written word.

~

His pen became a deadly sword

To ensure his voice would be heard 

Echoing through the centuries.

A man who was no stranger to intrigue

In the political world of the time.

~

A life tragically cut short with a knife,

A young life cruelly extinguished

By shadowy mysterious forces unknown

Robbing the world of a terrifying genius

Who dabbled in fictive reality.

~

While the glory went to the upstart crow

Who became the sweet swan of Stratford,

The world will never reject or forget 

The work of Christopher Marlowe.

Rest in peace, poet and playwright.

~

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

Image courtesy of bloomsbury.com

Six days to go to the end of the USA Poetry Month

The cruel decline of a brilliant husband of a poet.

THURSDAY 19th NOVEMBER 2020 ~ POETRY ~ BLOG POST

The cruel decline of a brilliant husband of a poet

(A fictional tale of a fictional meeting)

by John Yeo

Quite a good bus service here in Huddersfield,

The bus station was busy but empty,

It was a chilly day in town with a sharp wind. 

I sat waiting next to a gent in a raincoat, 

He puffed on his pipe and looked content.

Suddenly he turned to me and said,

“I was a boy in this area, it’s changed”.

I murmured a response and nodded.

~

 The wind picked up, then I asked my friend,

“What time is the next bus due to arrive?”

“I’m not too sure, Mary will know,” he replied.

“There was a huge gasometer down the road,

Near the grammar school that I attended.

My name is James, they called me Jim at school”

The cruel wind was blowing mercilessly,

A bus arrived, already full, so Jim and I sat still.

~

A kindly lady bustled along, “There you are Harold!

I’ve looked everywhere for you, the driver is waiting, 

The car is here”, She looked at me and smiled.

“I hope he has not been any trouble, I’m Mary”.

My friend looked at me, “Thank you for listening”

Pulled his raincoat collar up against the cruel wind.

~~Of change~~ “Mary I’m coming love,

I was Prime Minister, once you know”.

~

I sat stunned as realisation dawned,

My mind raced over the conversation

I would like to have had before his resignation

And cruel mental decline from Alzheimer’s disease.

How he kept us out of the Vietnam war,

Awarded The Beatles an MBE

During a very long week in politics

Foreseeing the “white heat of technology”.

My companion had been none other than,

James Harold Wilson, Baron Wilson of Rielvaux.

~

©️ Written by John Yeo~ All rights reserved.

This is a poem I wrote several years ago based on a real life Prime Minister of the UK from 1964 to 1970. 1974 and 1976

He sensationally resigned shortly after his 60th birthday. It has been suggested he was in the early stages of Altzheimers disease when he resigned and some recent tests seem to bear this out.

He died in 1995 aged 79 of colon cancer and Altzheimers disease.

He was buried in St Mary’s in the  Isles of Scilly.

His wife Mary Wilson was an accomplished published poet.

Mary Wilson’s poem on Harold’s death….

My love you have stumbled slowly

On the quiet way to death

And you lie where the wind blows strongly

With a salty spray on its breath.

For this men of the island bore you

Down paths where the branches meet

And the only sounds were the crunching grind

Of the gravel beneath their feet

And the sighing slide of the ebbing tide

On the beach where the breakers meet

Lady Mary Wilson lived to be 102 passing away on 7th June 2018 in London and her ashes are buried in St Mary’s in the Isle of Scilly.

Picture it and Write~THE FOLLY

This is the latest “Picture it and Write” prompt from Ermilia’s blog

http://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/2014/08/03/__picture-it-write-87/


photo

The Picture is provided and credited by Ermilia

THE FOLLY 
by John Yeo

Mrs Green was odd, she lived alone without any human companionship, just her canary and some goldfish.
The cottage that was her home was a very small cottage with a thatched roof. China ducks flew on the wall, visible through the front room window, behind an aspidistra plant on the window sill.
Mrs Green was very aged, some said she was in her nineties, nobody knew for sure, she always kept herself to herself. We had never seen any visitors to her home except for the doctor or a nurse if ever she was taken poorly, or tradesmen delivering milk, bread or groceries.
Then came the fire that suddenly erupted in the kitchen and burnt the cottage to the ground, Mrs Green, sadly was consumed in the flames and passed away.
The cottage stood derelict for some years until it was explored, with a view to building on the land. There was a brick-built folly in the garden, that looked crumbling and derelict, but somehow had remained intact over the years. When the door was broken down and entry gained a treasure trove of clues to the background and lifestyle of the eminent scientist and author, Felicity Green was revealed. There were many books lining the walls, and piled in heaps on the floor. Many hand-written books of scientific remedies for curing warts to a revolutionary new cure for some forms of cancer. There were notebooks full of her copper-plate handwriting and poetical works with pressed flowers.
On a very dusty ornate antique desk, littered with articles for her work and many dried herbs, lay a handwritten volume of the most beautiful poetry I have ever read.
We preserved her wonderful folly as a permanent memorial to Felicity Green. Many millions of pounds in revenue have been accumulated from her scientific discoveries, and her amazing poetical works will live forever alongside, William Shakespeare and many talented writers down through the ages.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo, All rights reserved

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