Bearing gifts

​I come bearing gifts

Not the tangible gifts wrapped in coloured paper

My gifts are maybe of the ether, concoctions of vapour

I hope my gifts are priceless, they cannot be bought

They are not in the shops, they may be gifts, you have not sought.
I come bearing gifts

My love a beacon on the gloomiest day and the darkest night

Soft silvery light to shine in the darkest corners, extra bright

Enabling you the strength to fight your dragons

An extra support in your times of despair, or adverse circumstances
Non judgemental listening allowing openness and trust

Engagement of ears and brain, freeing communication lines, of rust

Trust, that you will find the best way that you can 

A commitment to share my values but not try to force  you to rescan.
A desire to share all of life

With a raft and a map to ride out the strife

The knowledge that everybody also needs space

Not to be hog tied in life’s hectic race.
A bag of humour yet to be shared

Silly moments, joy and laughter cannot be compared

The knowledge that we all need to be self fullfilled

Both need to grow to and for the future build.
My bag of gifts is light on baggage

Many more gifts are there prepackaged

Look and experience my vaporous gifts

I hope they are suitable, they are not to be missed!
I come bearing gifts.

Our refuge 

Existence in a different realm
Away from care and strife
Where time is elongated, and happiness is rife
Create our world that stands alone
Beneath an azure sky
A place for ever in our hearts, where dreams float by and by

Lover…..soulmate

What is a lover……soul mate?
Somebody that makes ones heart sing
Who cares about the true spirit
Who strives to see your innermost wants and understands your rights to live by your beliefs
Who listens to what you are saying and acts accordingly
In their arms you feel safe and happy
When you are with them, they are the centre of your universe
They know when to act and when to comfort
When you are with them you feel you are the centre of their universe

Do National quirks put readers off?

​I have had reason of late to cogitate about the differences between American English and United Kingdom English. I am sure there are articles out there giving definitive views on the subject. I admit to not having done a search yet. A few incidents have set me wondering if the different word usages and terms become a problem for readers on the different continents. Do they actually turn readers off? I have read lots of books by authors from varying countries and personally I haven’t stopped reading any because of spelling variation or the odd quirk I have had to work out or look up. It has irritated me somewhat that ‘colour’ gets spelt ‘color’ and other words too are spelt differently to my instinctive way of spelling. Although not enough to give up on the story if I am gripped by the character and plot. That is my take, I would be interested to know other’s views. Do you consider the nationality and therefore the likely spelling and word usage when contemplating reading a novel, should writers take all national quirks out of their writing?
The specific incidents that got me thinking were:-

  • A beta reader from American did not understand the phrase – It certainly lit my blue touch paper.
  • Standing by the bar, I checked out the optics…..in England these are the measurements on bottles of spirits
  • I had a conversation with an American friend about my new kitchen and my new granite worktops ……ah countertops, counters in the USA.
  • Then there are all the others….garden….yard…..boot…..trunk….etc.

What do you think folks?

Life revolves

​Life revolves,life just flies

As soon as you are grown, the time rolls quickly by

The decades change perceptions and what we like to do

Time compresses, the years are quickly through

There the many milestones that mark the passage of time

Lust, love, births and marriages, career progression make quite a line

There was a time to party,  and drink unlimited booze

Then bedtime gets much earlier, we opt to stay and snooze

Running up the stairs was always such a breeze 

Now its more a gentle walk with more than the hint of wheeze

We used to love to travel to far flung flung exotic places

That hasn’t changed but check what we now pack in our cases

Our taste in music was bang on trend

Now the latest fad is unintelligable and drives us round the bend

We used to have so much energy, we could over ride fatigue

Now we suffer aches and pains, our energy is under siege 

Lifes one long continuum, needs and priorities change

Just keep a reckoning of all your major gains

Remember that child inside remains forever young

Live it up and enjoy each decade as it comes

Life revolves, life just flies

As soon as you are grown, the time rolls swiftly by.

Was it dreams?

​Was it dreams that brought us together

In the the arms of morpheus

Is this a fabled soliloquy or a duet light as a feather

Was it dreams that brought us together

Or will they force us assunder

As our chariots ride the waves of sleeps verdant weather

Will dreams sleeping and waking be our anchors

Or will we wake to lifes demands that cleave our world

That push us assunder make us true reactors

Was it dreams? 

I sense you near me

​I sense you near me

Painting me with your eyes

Although all you see is a picture

A vision on far away skies

I feel you near me 

Although you are far away

Communicating over the ether

Is so commonplace  today

I feel I know you

Although only through what you share

I have a limited portrait

With a canvas that has large bits bare

I feel a friendship

Growing stronger with time

The strength of the sketch 

Will strengthen or maybe decline

I feel you near me

We are able to share 

Humour, interests and difficulties

Adds a dimension most rare

What makes your writing boring?

​What makes your writing boring 

Other than the obvious …you have no ideas

What if your tale is magical but your prose is in arrears 

What makes your writing boring 

The tale just comes out flat

People give up reading and settle for a nap

The pundits say too many filter words can slow  the story down

Take care with have, believe, and decide

Seem, can also make people frown

You can’t let your protaganist think 

Or even hear a sound, or notice or see or touch

It seems that you can’t let your protaganist, do anything very much

What makes your writing boring 

Perhaps keeping  your characters awake

If they snoozed through your story ,you wouldn’t  make these mistakes!

What makes your story boring 

So many little writing flaws

During the editing process you have to change the words on the doors

Who sold my number?

​Scam phone calls

Have heard they happen

Never to me, I have a phone,  that everybody ignores

I have a sim

Its ready and available

But not for calling thats a whim

Used for data a few odd texts

I don’t need it to talk 

Not on this instrument, its data escape

So with suprise I note missed  calls

A voice mail message waiting for me

Just noise and chatter, call centre natter filled the walls

I block the number and wait  and see

Hey presto a slightly different number is calling me

Blocked that too

Caller note I dont answer this number

You have a long wait

But just who sold on my number, I sit and wonder!