Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Terry Collett Jul 2018
John is on the playing field
with other boys,
says Sheila,
I am too shy
to talk to him now;
I watch him
from a distance
by the wire fence,
my nerves on edge
wanting him alone.

Other girls pass me by
on to the field;
they giggle and laugh
loudly on their way.

I watch him
as he sits and talks,
take in his gesturing
hands and laughter.

I saw him that time
in the playground
when it rained
and the sun shone
and he said about
a monkey's wedding.

I think of him often
in the day: from early dawn
until bed at night.

He is alone now,
the other boys
have gone,
I hesitate to walk
to where he sits;
my nerves are taut
and still I wait;
he rises
and walks away:
too late.
OC Aug 2018
At preschool last morning, when first class began
Our teacher Miss Fortune, has entered the den
And promptly asked us, the pure younglings
To write on the devil that make us do things

So teacher sat down, and we tykes got engaged
And committedly filled page after page
As we took up an oath, us the urchin, the youth
To speak the whole truth, and nothing but truth

So first rose the young boy Timothy Veet
And confessed all the text that he etched on the sheet
How last week he attended the birthday of Sheila
And got high on some hemp, and two shots of tequila

As he sat, quickly stood his companion wee Tom
And he told how he broke to the principal’s home
Where he gingerly snatched, like a cat burglar
A computer, some cash, and antique silverware

But who took the whole cake, was shy Rosaline
As she stood up and gestured to Billy, her kin
And with timid resolve, and an ear-to-ear grin
Said: “He is the devil that makes me do things…”

Miss Fortune, chalk white, and clearly distressed
Was rushed on a gurney, to the ER no less
Our innocence wither, like a flower well hidden
So why keep insisting on calling us children
An old piece by my old man. Thought to lighten the mood a bit by translating this one. Hope you enjoy.
You're blue and I don't like it,
C'mon son why the long face?
Don't be sulky talk to Daddy, I am here.
You look sick, are you eating well?
Is your mother feeding you well or still on mixture of maize and beans?
I am making a meat-pie with Sheila,
Do come by today for some crossword in the evening, I will make sure you have a bite with ole Dad.

I have drawn some designs for the welsh dresser,
I'd like to make it with you,
Your brothers are all away and this one is still growing he can't hold a plane yet,
Just look at him, he's coming up too fast.

"Ok, will do."
Lawrence Hall Jul 2018
from an idea by Sheila Sharpe

In the foul heat and damp and rot and stench
After dusting off 1 the bodies of dead pals
The living and the dead, the living dead
Old Boats 2 lit off a cigarette and growled

“They say this stuff’ll **** ya.”

1 Dustoff – noun.  Dust off – verb with an adverb.  A dustoff is a medical evacuation via helicopter, as in “Doc, your dustoff will be here in three.”  To dust off a patient, then, is to transport a patient, not to tidy him.  I have recently read detailed arguments about the terms dustoff, dust off, and medevac, but no one quibbled about such minutiae along the Cambodian border.  

2 Boats – a boatswain’s mate, the brains and muscle of the Navy.  Boatswain’s mates do it all and are seldom acknowledged in history or art, not even in the recent film about Dunkirk.  A boatswain’s mate is often addressed as Boats, and always with deference, even by the C.O.
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is:
It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.
Chris Slade Apr 1
Ladies of the Net… A warning to male adolescents everywhere…

“Hi Honey….I just got matched with your profile”… At least that’s what I think it said.
Brilliant I thought because I’m available and life round here is, well…it’s dead
“I’m looking for an experienced guy who’s good in bed…  been round the block, but not the clock…
One with plenty of experience and a huge…err…appetite…
for hooking up instead of these inexperienced boys…
They’re all excitable, probably all over too quick…
need someone with poise reserve and a twelve inch errr… Libido?… ego?
Click my pics kiddo and let’s get it on… you Stud!… Well I would!

*******! I’m overwhelmed but let’s not peak too soon…
There’s loads of stuff coming in as Spam that would probably make us all swoon.
So check it out…without fail, “eeeh!”  They’re all there - these ladies of the net - they crop up daily -
Sheila Blige… Tanya Hide… Mandy May,  Bette Sheedus, Lovinia ****…
I’m not sure if these are their real names... But - Phew -
with things like this going on round here we could all get *******!

She says she’s just round the corner, you know like Sompting, Steyning, LA (that must be Littlehampton)… Southwick…Little Haven Halt, Portslade.
We could meet in a lay-by and we’ll get laid… just an innocent little escapade.
It won’t be my fault if you miss this chance…
Just try it - I’ll handcuff you to the bed and lap dance.
Click on my pix, big boy, they all beckon.
Take a closer look at these sonny boy - now what do you reckon?

Well, you’d have to say they do look very alluring in the taster…
so why not just click...
to the next page… see the site… don’t waste-ya time…CLICK!
*******! The screen’s gone blank…
now I won’t even be able to have a __
Knock, Knock, Knock!

"Kevin!!!?"..."Mum?" "Is that you?" "Yes Mum!… Everything’s OK!… I’m just turning out the light… G’night!"
These days the temptations of the internet are many and varied... no longer restricted to top shelf magazines...It's all free and it's coming to gettya - Check out those parental controls!!
Lyn-Purcell Aug 2018
At the sound of my name, I see the faces
turn and smiles of many friends;
Queen Sue of Ruikruya in her lilac silks,
Queen Sarita of Khaikar in orange silks,
Queen Deb of Daegeral in magenta,
Queen Kim of Geniael in creams,
Queen Robin of Naeneiana in periwinkles,
Queen Fawn of Yuamor in red-violets,
Queen Dawn of Khesian in dandelion-orange,
Queen Jugnu of Enuryn in jade-greens,
Queen Yidna of Puhan in indigos,
Queen Cne of Phelyra in turquoise,
Queen Xaela of Lonusea in peach,
Queen Ayumi of Wadia in tan-gold,
Queen Sheila of Naizzuzia in cornflower-blue,
Queen Stars of Yurithireatha in green-yellow

King Edmund and his wife in matching
forest-greens attires,
King Omni of Khaniel in silvers,
King Emeka of Ghalali in white,
King Devon of Monait in blue-violets,
King Fugue of Thavia in blacks,
King Yacov of Igrador in olive-green,
King Joseph of Eaqellurene in bronze,
King Fredrick of Emirinait in mauve,
King Rob of Balan in sea-green,
King John of Khesian in melon-red,
King Aslam of Ikaesa in deep plum,
King Brandon of Huarean in ocher,
King Kikodinho of Izugalla in taupe,
King Jobira of Zavalon in orange-red
and many many more.

And last but not least, King Paul of
Luciuscemi himself in emerald-and-gold.
He wears his favourite emerald green
jacket with ruby buttons, bright gold
embroidery of suns and lions; his sleeves
stitched with pearls and rubies to match
the red sash across his chest; his trousers
black as are his boots, but even they have
gold laces.
I received messages saying part 7 wasn't seen...
Come on, HP! I'll have to split this in half also.
Anyway, alot of names were dropped so please
To Rob and Yidna in particular,  thank you very much for your kind comments! They mean alot. Don't worry, I still have them - it's just made it private.
Thank you all so so much, truly!
I'm truly grateful.
Lyn ***
Maggie Sorbie Apr 19
Ladybirds like scones
and I nearly ate one
the other day
Sheila picked it up
and put it on a tree
taking a photograph first
so you can believe me
Ryan O'Leary May 8
There has got to be a more poetic
way to express one's infatuation
for her, other than saying that,
I am in love. She must have had
a lifetime of sensual suitors who
were seduced by her beauty. If
one were to take a page out of
Antonio's book, regard beyond
the enticing, of Portia's caskets,
it is there you'll find those grains
of flour, yeasted by her fondness.


For Sheila Fitzpatrick
Owner of ABC Organic
Bakery English Market
City of Cork Ireland.
Ryan O'Leary Jul 28
A car without wheels on
blocks in full revolution will
eventually ruin the motor.
If energy is not transmitted,
it will consume the generator.

Electricity cannot be stored.

It is the same with liquid,
were it not for the sea, rivers
would become superfluous.

There is yeast in the ether,
where bread is born, but
love has been known to die
there, if it is not kneaded.


For Sheila Fitzpatrick
the baker at the ABC
Alternative Bread Company
in Cork City.

A declaration of love from
the author.

— The End —