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..


Image courtesy of pixabay,com


by John Yeo

Many  official vessels from different navies

United in a common cause, 

To stem a very sad tide. 

A tidal wave of unfortunate people.

Fleeing their homelands 

Through fear and persecution.


The United forces of the comfortable world, 

Come together to save the lives

Of the refugees from oppression.

Crammed into unsafe vessels 

Preyed on for profit by cheats and thieves.

Led to Death by drowning in cruel rough seas. 


Divided by cause, culture and strife,

The refugees from hard pressed lands

Arrive to find salvation in a makeshift camp.

To ask for asylum and begin a new life

The saviours argue the point, 

Divided by the situation of overpopulation.


Can this worldwide tragedy really be true?

In paradise there is much dissatisfaction.

Some people’s lives are seriously askew

Driving them to consider emigration,

Legal or illegal it’s not very nice,

To persecute people for trespassing in paradise.


© Written by John Yeo  ~ All rights reserved 

Image courtesy of pixabay,com


Thursday 5th April 2019


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

For today’s prompt, write a stolen poem. And no, don’t steal anyone’s poem! But you can write about doing such a thing. Or stealing hearts, stealing time, stealing minds.

Image courtesy of


by John Yeo

My child has left and gone to work
I lie here alone with my thoughts,
I will not stir, I will not move, I am in pain.
My little girl Hope is twelve years old
Takes care of everything for us both,
Since her mother left us alone again.
When the sadness descended on me.

Hope gets up at dawn to prepare our meal,
Fetches water to wash the clothes,
She cleans the room and takes good care of me.
Hope hides when visitors come to the door
We both need her here to be free, with me.
Hope works in a sweatshop making clothes
for the fat people over the sea.

As I lie here alone the rats appear,
They scuffle around then leave, foodless.
When the landlord calls to collect the rent,
I have noticed the way he looks at my Hope
As she pays him from her paltry earnings.
Mischievous, malevolent lascivious looks
That bode no good for my child.

School for Hope was a couple of years
In a shack for a classroom until;
Her mother left us and Hope went to work.
She has no time for friends or parties
New clothes or games and playing sport,
No time for laughter or enjoying a book.
Hope is too busy working to stop and look.

Selfishly I lie here and let things be.
I know I can never let Hope be free
We are tied to each other irrecoverably,
It is too late for all but my sympathy.
I know I’m a thief and I can clearly see
I have stolen a precious commodity.
The innocent freedom of childhood.

©️Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

Image courtesy of


I wrote this post for ‘The Quintet’ our church magazine in response to the theme of…SLAVERY.


Image courtesy of


by John Yeo

 The first thing that comes to mind when one thinks about slavery, is the horror of the period between 1600 when legal mass slavery was reputed to have begun in the UK and 1863 when slavery was officially abolished in the USA.

Although slavery in one form or another actually began much earlier, in the form of war captives, and the domination of one tribe by another.

 However, slavery comes in many forms; human slavery is just the tip of a hidden iceberg. Almost every one of us is a slave to addiction in one form or another. Whether it be one of the obvious big four, Alcohol, Drugs, Tobacco, or Gambling or another enslaving addiction such as the habitual rejection of food as in questionable diets and slimming fads that could lead to the horrors of Anorexia or Bulimia.

 A miser’s enslaving addiction is the storing up of wealth and hatred of expenditure.

Addiction can take many forms, in fact, people can become addicted slaves to almost anything, from eating too much ice cream to viewing obscenity.

By far the newest trap, with the potential to become the biggest modern path into enslavement comes in the form of Internet addiction. Particularly the new, so-called, Social Media, it starts as a wonderful way to keep in touch with friends but it can slowly and insidiously become a time-consuming, enslaving addiction. ‘Just one little look!’ becomes hours and hours of pointless time-wasting.

 The dangers of internet enslavement to the younger generation have been recognized and well-recorded. This has the potential of becoming the biggest threat to the unwary in recorded history. With the added side effects of leading the young astray along a maze of unforeseen addictive paths. Children, of all ages and many adults, are becoming bombarded with images and alluring, time-consuming pathways embedded in the World-Wide-Web.

This is not to downplay the obvious advantages of the web for education and instant communication.

One of the biggest challenges in the near future will certainly be a coming to terms with the effects of this widespread, self-inflicted, modern form of enslavement of the unwary; who become ensnared by this highly addictive web.

©️John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.



You are an explorer who’s just discovered a new island.’



by John Yeo

   The press conference was well attended, with representatives from several of the national newspapers and a few reporters from regional papers.
There was a presentation of sketches and photographs on display of a substantial rocky landmass located in a sunlit sapphire sea. There was a large indentation in the centre that was a natural lake with a channel leading to a bay that formed a natural harbour.

‘First things first Ladies and Gentlemen of the press. My name is Captain Oswald, I own that luxury yacht moored in the harbour. We have just returned from the Indian Ocean, where my island is located.’

Mike Molloy, an ebullient Irish reporter employed by the Daily Torment, a national tabloid newspaper. ‘You are referring to this discovery as your island
Captain? How can you lay claim to an island for yourself. Surely you should be claiming it for the nation?’

‘My friend I have discovered this paradisiacal island, exactly 101 miles off the coast of Tango, located in the South Pacific Ocean. Even now as we speak several members of my crew are in residence guarding my property. I have laid claim to this new land and I propose to sell shares to anyone interested in the future development of my land.’

There was a sudden loud general hubbub as questions were fired at Captain Oswald, a short, stocky man with a shock of sandy coloured hair.
A large familiar-looking man raised his hand and shouted.
‘Peter Swinburne, from the Daily Scare. Supposing you are overruled by the government of Tango and the island is confiscated. How do your investors know they will be able to get their money back?’

‘Mr Swinburne, my word is my bond and I guarantee to refund all monies that will have been invested in my property. I have the financial backing of a leading worldwide firm in the futures investment industry. This will be a first class investment with the minimum of risk. I have been assured by a member of the Tangoan government that this new island is just outside their territorial boundaries and is open for development. I have agreed to allow the Tangoan government a full half share of any future profits.’

Another voice shouted a question, this time it was a lady reporter. ‘Geraldine South, from the Seaview Independent local paper. I would like to know how much of these future profits will be invested locally in these Isles.’

Captain Oswald smiled and replied. ‘There is no question that this government will receive substantial funds in exchange for protection from marauding pirates and gangsters. I have been assured this is possible and a feasibility study is underway as we speak. Of course the bulk of our trade will be with tourists and businesses from here. Holidaymakers will flock there, the ultra-wealthy will build their homes there.’

A tall distinguished looking man then stepped up and said,
‘Ladies and Gentlemen, I have to bring this press conference to a close now. I am a lawyer representing Captain Oswald. I would appreciate it, if all further questions could be directed to my office. I propose to leave a pile of my address cards at the back of this hall.

The next few weeks were exciting as far as Captain Oswald was concerned. Money was flooding in from interested investors as speculators queued to get a piece of the action. The funds were quickly channeled into building projects and advertising.

Captain Oswald had returned to his island and made the trip back several times. He now worked from a plush office in the centre of the financial hub of a city on the mainland.
When the first warnings started to come through, Captain Oswald was attending a plethora of meetings with his new partners and the banks.
The first newsflash was seemingly insignificant, just a suggestion that there was a hurricane due to touch the coastline of his private island.
The news came through as Captain Oswald had a meeting scheduled with the press to announce a public naming ceremony of his new island. Unsurprisingly the island was to be named Oswald island and would be officially recognised by all concerned.

The reports of the power and devastation caused by the hurricane in the South Pacific Ocean became more and more alarming. The weather forecasters had named this powerful storm, Hurricane Esmeralda, a name that would forever be indelibly imprinted on the mind of Captain Oswald.

Within days the Captain and his crew were travelling at full speed towards the Tango islands in the South Pacific following a spate of reports of the devastation and the loss of life caused by Hurricane Esmeralda. There was a lack of news after a while due to the power lines that had been severely damaged by the storm.
Several days later they were approaching the point where Oswald Island was located but to the horror and surprise of the Captain there wasn’t any sign of his island.

Captain Oswald screamed to his first mate, ‘Barnicle, where’s the island?’

‘I dunno Captain, it should be right in front of us.’

‘Have you got the right coordinates man?’

‘Yessir! Positively Sir.’

It took a few seconds for the dreadful realisation that Oswald Island was gone and would never be seen again. Washed away and destroyed by Hurricane Esmeralda, the island was now at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean.
The Captain took this discovery surprisingly philosophically.

‘Well life’s a gamble, they say things come and go, Nature provides and Nature takes away. C’mon Barnacle, head for Tango, I need to cash in my chips.’

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved


This article  was written for “QUINTET,” our Parish magazine, requesting submissions on the theme of January Blues


Image © Copyright John and Margaret ~All rights reserved


Sowing the Seeds of Recovery

by John Yeo

    Uplifting Christmas carols and music. Sparkling, colourful lights have now been replaced with  the shock of the after-effects, and the  cold gray  winter weather of January.

   A moment of taking stock, counting the cost of the revels that have gone before.

  This time of the year can be a lonely time after the celebrations are over and the family have all left and gone their separate ways

  We plan to visit several people, neighbours, and friends who we know will appreciate a chat and a few moments of company. A cheery word in the right ear can bring magic to a sufferer of January blues.

  For some, January is a time of reflection on the past year, with high hopes for the future We feel the lowness of mood, that follows the high Christmas cheer, of the celebrations with friends and neighbours.

    January is a month of gloomy darkness.

  Cold, dreary weather,  when the blue of the skies is obscured by gray cloud, midwinter frosts, and freezing temperatures.

  There is a recognized uneasy mood affected disorder around, known as seasonal affective disorder or SAD for short. Light therapy is a way this disorder is treated by exposure to artificial light.  

  Perhaps another way to combat SAD is to bask in the benefit of the light that the enlightenment of the epiphany has revealed, by the special relaxed calmness that can be obtained through prayer and having faith that the future is a mystery that has yet to be solved.

  Another way to chase the blues away is by planning a holiday, this is one of the most popular ways to combat the January blues. Just seeing piles of brochures with photographs of beautiful blue skies,  and impressive surf with waves pounding into some golden sands is certain to lift the most downtrodden spirits.

    Sadly the alluring TV adverts and seductive  brochures, that drop through many of our letterboxes, can actually contribute to a deep feeling of depression, especially when some of us will never have the financial means or health to take advantage of them.

    Again this is a time to be considerate and cautious, with the sure knowledge that things can improve with the reaching out of a warm connecting smile.

  As a gardener and an avid grow-your-own enthusiast on my allotment. Easily the most satisfying, rewarding and entertaining way to spend those long January evenings, is with an enormous pile of seed catalogues and brochures; planning the growing year in advance. I can picture myself in the Spring, sowing tiny minuscule seeds, taking care of the seedlings to promote growth. I can close my eyes and picture an array of wonderful flowers in full bloom. I can picture fresh wholesome tasty vegetables that will bring a smile of satisfaction to my face with the sheer joy of accomplishment.

  The January blues will swiftly become a faint memory as I look into the gardening future.

 “Cheer up my friend Spring will certainly arrive. How are you today?”

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

Daily Prompt on WordPress ~ 17th December 2015 ~ BECAUSE THE NIGHT

Because the Night
Are you a night owl or are you the early bird? What’s your most productive time of day? When do you do your best work?

Daily Prompt on WordPress ~ 17th December 2015 ~


Image © Copyright ~,John and Margaret


by John Yeo

   Lenny was a rising star in his field, he had started at the bottom of the organisation and had been rapidly promoted to area-manager.   Ruthlessly brushing aside his rivals, he had used every trick in the book to get where he was today.
     The confidence levels of the superstar, super sales-manager were at the highest levels. He was a dynamo that never seemed to slow down, or break down. Record figures on his monthly sales graph told the story of his infinitely clever abilities.
  One day he was ordered to attend a very special meeting with his well known, internationally famous boss.
  Ricky Ricardo, was a guitarist who had made a pile from the recording industry and was now diversifying into other areas. Lenny was both intrigued and flattered to attend this meeting, he had always been a fan of his bosses music and he couldn’t contain his curiosity.
   Lenny stepped into a huge outer office and was directed to a seat by a secretary.
       “Please take a seat, Mr Ricardo is expecting you and he is aware you are here.”
    “Thank you,” Lenny replied. Looking around this outer office, Lenny noticed that the walls were covered with photographs and memento’s of Ricky Ricardo’s long established career in the music industry.
The secretary smiled and motioned Lenny towards the main office.
     “You can go in now.”
  Entering the office, Lenny gasped in surprise to be confronted by an aged, wizened wrinkled man, seated behind a huge desk.
         “Hi! Don’t look so shocked son. We all get a little older each day. I know what you are thinking and I am not surprised at your reaction. Take a seat. I am impressed with your performance since you joined the company, and I want to make you an offer that I hope you will find difficult to refuse.”
   “Thank you Sir!” responded Lenny.
            “Call me Ricky, How are you sleeping lately? I fully understand if you are having difficulty with your sleeping patterns. We all do after a while. That last deal you made, must have cost you an awful lot of sleep the way you ruthlessly ripped off those people for the benefit of the company.”
  Taken aback, Lenny just murmured, “I sleep OK!”
              “Do you really? That’s amazing, I always toss and turn after I have screwed a few people for all they have got the world. That’s how I got to look like this, because the night is always the time your conscience should be bothering you. Are you sure?”
    “Well!” intoned Lenny “Now you come to mention it, I do have a few problems and the Doctor has prescribed sleeping tablets.”
               “I knew it son, you have a long way to go yet, I am going to give you early retirement with a month’s pay in lieu of notice.”
    Lenny was stunned. “But why?” was all he could get out.
              “Call it justice son. That last lady you conned out of her life savings was a distant relative of mine. Think about it tonight, because the night is the time things begin to catch up on you.”

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

Care Poem

05-PIC_0691Robert Brewer’s Wednesday poetry prompt~12/03/2014

For today’s prompt, write a care poem. As with many of the prompts, a care poem can be handled (with care) in many different ways: write a poem in which you care about someone (or something); write a poem about a caregiver (or care receiver); write a poem about the Care Bears; or if you don’t care about anything, let that guide you.  


This unbearable feeling is hard to share.

After many years suffusing into each other

An unbreachable gap has come to appear,

Shattering feelings built over many a year.


We shared many times with mutual respect

Happiness with laughter, always together

Never stopping to consider this awful end

The Death of a lover and a very dear friend


At the last, Death rips and shreds the past

Smashing our life to a million shards

The painful cutting and tearing apart,

Bloodless breaking of a once proud heart


Memories abound in solitary sadness

Flooding my mind with thoughts and despair

You were once here with me,

always there,

This harsh world continues without a care.


Copyright © By John Yeo

All rights reserved