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  Jul 2018 Megan Parson
Jackie Mead
Once upon a time, long ago.
Lived a young girl called Ishimo.
Ishimo lived in the trees, between the fields and the deep blue sea.

Ishimo one day decided to explore.
Crept downstairs and out the front door.
Silently sneaking on her knees.
She ran away from her home in the trees.

Ishimo had been running for sometime and was hungry for food and thirsty for drink.
Maybe some wine, Ishimo started to think, she had heard her Mummy say that wine was indeed very fine.

Ishimo was missing her Mummy, started to rub her tummy.
She started to crawl around on the floor looking for something to eat and drink.
Ishimo was very hungry, it was a long time since she had fed, she began to think.
Ishimo found on the ground some berries, bright red and looking very delicious to someone who hadn't eaten all day.
She consumed the berries very quick and soon she realised she was beginning to feel sick.

A short time later she did find a half empty bottle of wine.
A few sips was all she had before deciding her Mummy must be mad.

Sometime later now, her belly in much pain, she laid her head down, not knowing when she would get up again.
Sleeping Ishimo was hard to wake, her Mummy was very distressed.
She loved her little Ishimo very much and felt very blessed.
Mummy shook and shook Ishimo with all her might, until day began to turn to night.
She talked to her about her Father, Brothers and Sisters, how they all dearly loved her and truly missed her.

By the start of the next day as the sun began to rise.
Little Ishimo began to open her eyes.
She saw joy upon her family's faces and heard her Mummy's sighs.
Little Ishimo felt truly alive, smiled and started to rise.

Her Father, Mummy, Brothers and Sisters were indeed very pleased, to have little Ishimo returned to them, they had their fears eased.

Now Mummy and Little Ishimo go from town to town, telling the tale of the day that Ishimo laid her head on the ground.
Warning others not to disobey and take it in their own hands to run away.

Little Ishimo and her friends now respect their environment and berries on the ground and are left for the elders to gather and prepare, for some can be eaten if prepared with care.

Be Wise, Be Safe, know your berries, know your place :)
Just a little bit of Tuesday fun - hope you enjoy.
  Jul 2018 Megan Parson
Lazhar Bouazzi
Writing is
the frozen music
of an ellipsis -
a silent song
of a lonesome poet
who sings in the dark
between howling winds
crossing swords
in the white shades
of unseen things -

a winter on the pole
on whose  obverse side
there's Rio,
and mirth,
and dancing,
and the sun's critique
of hegemony.

© LazharBouazzi
  Jul 2018 Megan Parson
Lyn-Purcell
Your buds are crushed
beneath my feet
I will trod upon your
tales, tails and lies
  Jul 2018 Megan Parson
Edmund black
Follow
The
Sounds
Of
Laughter
And
Joy
There
Love
Exist
Laughter is the fireworks of the soul and the sweetest vacation from a crazy world..... Cheers!
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