Oh Yes

Oh Yes

By Shelley Miller

Oh yes, that man is all I want,
I told him that already.
I wore a dress from Mary Quant
And said "undress me Freddie"

He said I was a trendy beaut,
Too stylish for his liking,
So I showed up in me old tracksuit
And off we went hitchhiking.

Oh yes, that man, he makes me swoon,
He has a way about him.
Me mum said " not too much too soon,
If he tries his luck, just clout him".

He said he had a way with words
And his heart was full of love.
He said he used to chase the birds
Now he's settled for a Dove.

Oh yes, that man is very fit,
He doesn't own a car.
He bought me a banana split
And said we could go far.

We walked six miles, me bunion throbbed,
Me knees had had enough.
I said "hold on, me corn's been cobbed
And I think I'm up the duff"

Oh yes, that man is all I need,
He took it on the chin,
We found a pub in record speed
And he downed a triple gin.

Me mum said "now I told you Jean,
He won't be round for long".
But I said "I do" in Gretna Green,
This time, mum got it wrong.

Copyright Shelley Miller

The Gathering

The Gathering

By Dawn Van Win

                        

‘Twas All Hallows on that night

When at the beach I saw a sight

That stirred emotions raw and mixed

I stood there watching quite transfixed 

Was I 

By this strangest sight

Of women dancing in the night

By moon so full

In nature’s thrall

They had no clothes on

None at all!

Initial thoughts of fear and dread

Gave way to something else instead

When once I may have run and hid

I thought I’d join them

So I did

They welcomed me with open arms 

The sea it beckoned deep and calm

And so we stepped into the brine

The moon continuing to shine

It’s wondrous light 

on spirits free

All gathered in the name of She

These mothers, daughters, sisters too

All with an inner calling knew

To come here to this wildest place

And dance and laugh and raise a face

Up to that gentle silver light

All shame and doubt had taken flight

And so on Hallow’s Eve each year

All of those tales of dread and fear

Of vampires, bats and walking dead

Are just a veil placed to distract

The masses 

from this simple fact

That while some gather to trick or treat

And shuffle up and down the streets

A smaller group, perhaps a few

Who knows exactly what to do

Are summoned by our Mother Nature 

To seek a wild place for adventure 

So if your granny, daughter, mum

Pops out the door with errands to run

And it seems late, the witching hour

Don’t make her wait, 

She feels the power 

of this time, this special eve

When of her senses she may leave

And though you may not recognise

This fiery light behind her eyes

One usually so meek and mild 

She has an inner, wilder child

It isn’t that her nature’s switched

It’s just her inner, knowing witch!

Copyright Dawn Van Win 

The Room

The Room

By Peter Woodgate

One hand on the doorknob

The latch I then slide

As bravely I open

And survey the inside.

A fire in the grate

A soft rug on the floor

A guard in the hearth

But what is this for?

My gaze wanders aimlessly

Searching around

My heart remains chilled

For this room lacks the sound.

Of the voice, that once, could right all wrongs

Soothing my troubled brow

And a smile that would say everything is ok

That was then, but alas, not now.

She has gone, my light, my saviour

I stand alone in this room we would share

I try to remember the good times

a vision of her standing there.

But despite the flame, it isn’t the same

This room where I stand and stare,

A stark realization of what now remains

just some boots and a hat on the chair.

Copyright Peter Woodgate

A Kiss

A Kiss

By Shelley Miller

Why oh why must she persist
In pouting lips that charm a kiss

from him?
It only makes her hunger

for his roaming hands to wander

limb to limb.

Why oh why will she not see
The joys of love are ephemeral and he knows,
His touch is in her mind and when

it's open wide she blossoms like a rose.

It's beautiful, it has no end,
His kiss will keep on leading her astray,
But his smile is so inviting and he knows
She'll stay with him another day.

Copyright By Shelley Miller

Flamingo Podnyalsya Ch 4

Flamingo Podnyalsya Ch 4

CHAPTER 4

By Phil Miller

Chris had been an IT consultant for a large American communications company and was very good at what he did. His IQ was 135 and there was absolutely nothing he did not know about computers. For most people, a career in this industry would have been just fine, but not for Chris. He wanted more and knew the only way to get what he wanted was to work for himself; find a niche market.

That was when the problems started. There had been a recession and people were losing their jobs left, right and centre. Sara was in a permanent state of existential angst and it was affecting their relationship. They had been trying for a baby but it was proving difficult so they decided to consult a gynaecologist and were both devastated when told that Sara was infertile. After many clinical appointments and discussions on courses of treatment, they opted for IVF, which proved very expensive and which soon burned a hole in their bank balance.                             

Things were looking grim. But then Chris spotted an article in the Telegraph appertaining to the lack of polygraph testers in the UK and the government’s legislative proposal to adopt polygraph testing within the British justice system with it being written in statute within the next three years. He researched the field of Polygraphy extensively and was hooked. He opted for an intensive three-month course in California, and when finished, he would be a fully-fledged member of the highly prestigious American Polygraph Association; a licence to print money.   
                        

Sara didn’t want him to go but, after a lot of heated debate and soul searching, the decision was made, and Chris left for the sunshine coast. He spoke to Sara every day for the first month but the calls started to drop away so much so that halfway through the course they were only talking about twice a week.

It was during his seventh week of training that he met Mika. She had been accompanying her husband while he attended a venture capital, technological, innovation and social media world conference, and exhibition in the San Francisco Bay area of Northern California. The American Polygraph Association had decided the event would be an opportunity to advertise their unique business; good practise for the students. That is when Chris first set eyes on Mika. She looked stunning in her green velvet backless dress which revealed a large tattoo of a multi-coloured dragon. She was nonchalantly walking around when she spotted the sign above stand 516 that read, “COULD YOU DETECT A LIE, BECAUSE WE GUARANTEE TO.”

She walked slowly over to Chris and stood staring at him before lifting a small lipstick from her handbag and applying it.

“Can you really catch people out with this machine, if they lie?”

“That’s the idea,” Said Chris, feeling rather hot under the collar. “Would you like to try it?”

“Yes please, could be fun.” She sat down at the small table. “I suppose you’re going to strap me up to something now.”

“Nothing harmful, just a few leads to some of your fingers and some straps around your body.”

“Go on then.” She laid her hand on the table and Chris took up the cardio-sphygmograph. He had set this up over 100 times during the last six weeks but at this moment he couldn’t function properly. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He gently attached the galvanograph to her fingertips.  He felt a surge of natural electricity surge through him as he felt her beautiful soft skin. His heart began to race. Sara flashed through his mind. He hadn’t felt like this for a long time. Every now and then Mika caught him staring at her and laughed. Next, the cuff. As he slid it on her arm his eyes caught hers and he felt chemistry between them. He stepped away and reached for the tube-like band. “I’m just going to wrap this around your body.”

As he stepped towards her, she lifted her right leg and pointed her foot at him. “Could you take my shoes off for me, my feet are aching.” Chris licked his dry lips and looked around to see if any of his fellow students or tutor were on their way back from their walkabout, then knelt down and removed her shoes and placed them under her chair. He gripped the table leg to help himself up and couldn’t help looking at her perfectly formed body. He felt like a rabbit caught in the headlights. Time just froze for a moment as she sat staring seductively at him.

“I’ve got a proposition for you.” She said, “How would you like to earn an easy 10 grand?”

The next six months were a whirlwind for Chris and Mika was the storm driving it. She had sophistication about her. She was beguiling, beautiful, cunning and alluring.   

After convincing Mitch that she needed to visit her sick friend in New York, she booked a hotel a few blocks from where Chris was staying. The first night they spent together she emptied her bag onto the queen-sized bed and produced a pocket guide Kama Sutra, chopped some lines and pounced on him like a lioness. Chris couldn’t get enough of it; the Charlie and her. She was insatiable. If Sara found out, that really would be the end.

It was Wednesday morning at The Piers Hotel. After he’d cleaned the mirror and did a visual sweep for any loose wraps, Chris made his way to Luigi’s greasy spoon for a fry up. After a bit of banter with the staff, he sat quietly staring at his large cappuccino. He started to get anxious again. “What the fuck should I do? Time to get out. Get out of this mess. Come on, pull yourself together man. Jesus! 9.30!, Sara!  Got to call Sara. Did I even speak to her yesterday?” He took out his 11 pro max and saw a missed call, so sat working out his next move. “Come clean. End it. Just tell the truth. No, get some help.” He never really talked about his feelings; just like his father, an emotional fish. That was half the problem. They needed to talk. His heartfelt heavy as he hit speed dial but, just as he connected, a text came through. It was Mika.

“ Meet at Purdey’s, Friday, at 8pm. Bring your little box of tricks with you, 5k for 2 hours work. Don’t be late xx.” He replied, “ok!” and disconnected the call just as Sara answered, then switched off his phone. He needed time to think. 

Sara knew how busy Chris could get but was excited to tell him the good news. She was pregnant. It had been a bittersweet moment: finding herself with child but knowing that her daughter will grow up motherless for most of her life. She thought for a moment about video calling him but changed her mind. Her heart ached and she felt dizzy. Depression came over her like never before and she fought hard to hold the tidal wave of tears back. “Can’t let Chris see me like this. Tell him to his face. Can read him then, read him better than anyone.”

Purdey’s Farm was a dilapidated old farmhouse on the outskirts of Upminster, Essex.  It belonged to one-eyed Bob. Bob used to control all the bouncers in and around the West End. If anything needed sorting then he was your man. He was a one-eyed giant standing at 6” 8” and 28 stone.  He lost his eye in a fight with a Romanian Gypsy King. Bob lost his eye; the king lost his life. The fight was over a debt; winner takes all kind of bet.

The gates to the farm were always open but rarely did anybody venture in uninvited. The main house was a gutted roofless ruin. The yards, back and front, were full of old rusted cars, caravans, smashed up boats and mounds of old cable ready for stripping. There was a barn at the back of the house with open fields beyond which were flanked by ancient woodland. Piles of logs were stacked under a corrugated lean-to at the side of the barn with an abundance of coal next to it. A pile of old cables lay in the open. The burning always took place on the weekend and the acrid smoke lingered on for days.

Chris pulled up on time. It was dark and damp and a light fog stretched out beyond the fields. The gravel under the wheels reminded him of home and how proud he had felt when he and Sara had moved into their first home. He stepped out of his old 4x4 range rover with his kit case and walked up to the solid black iron door. He rang the bell and after a few minutes, a metal plate dropped to reveal a familiar face, followed by the sound of bolts being drawn. The door creaked open.

“Hello darling, come in.” She stood with a wicked smile on her face. She wore a black all in one overall, the type builders use when they are expecting to get dirty and what looked like surgical gloves.  Chris entered, head down.

Mika bolted the door behind them. It had just started to rain. She led him through to another door which led down to the basement where sat a tall imposing man with a heavily bruised face. He was gagged and his hands were cuffed to a bolt eye firmly fixed to a very old heavy workbench. Standing in the corner was another man. He stood by another smaller table on which lay a curled up leather pouch. A large vodka bottle and four glasses stood next to it.

“Mr Flicka, I would like to introduce a good friend of mine, Mr Kaspersky. Kas for short.” She walked over to the battered captive. “This is your subject. May I introduce mister Moreau.”

Copyright Phil Miller

Haibun – Air formation

Haibun – Air formation

By Robert Kingston

“We watched as they took to the sky in groups, then counted them as they returned one by one, some not returning at all.” These were words spoken of our air force in the Second World War. The effects on people's lives the world over is something many of us carry in our thoughts each day and on each day of remembrance. This for me was made all the more poignant today as I watched the largest flock of crows I have ever seen take to the sky, heading north-west, only for a short while later to return heading south-east. On their return the formation had changed, to a lesser number, a few more followed, then odd ones following a little later.

a flock of crows
in formation trace the past
shadows of heroes

Copyright By Robert Kingston

Celby, Guardian of the Portal.

Celby, Guardian of the Portal.

By Len Morgan

I am Celby, I'm eight, but kinda small for my age. I have a yella comb on my head, bright and fluffy. Moma says that means I have a special talent. My little sister Souli is only five but is far ahead of me at writin an sums, that's her talent because she has a purple comb.  I am a mind speaka like Ganpa.  Moma is purple like Souli, Popa has a black comb his talent is for building stuff.  Ganpa now has a fuzzy white comb with no fur on it. Moma says that's because he's old and wise, and should always be heeded.

 

On my seventh birthday, I received my speaka's medal when Ganpa tested my talent.

Ganpa took me through the portal, "now young Celby, I want you to tell me what that snail is thinking."

"You mean the funny shellikie thing with horns?"

"That's the one."

"She's looking at the leaves on the wild lettuce, they looked so tasty, but the plant is so far away, and she moves so slowly.  She wishes she had legs like the field mouse or wings like a bird."

"And what is the field mouse thinking?"

"He wishes he had a fine shiny shell to live in, like the snail, then he wouldn't have to build a nest."

"Very good.  You have shown me you are a true mind speaka, now I would like you to plant an idea in the mind of miss snail."

I thought very hard, then told her there are lots of tasty leaves much closer if you just look for them. She stopped and sampled a daisy leaf. "Did I do good Ganpa?"

"Excellent!  There are two rules you must promise to obey before you will be allowed to stand guard on the Portal to our world.

One, never look into the eyes of a Slowgie, If you do you'll let them into our World, then all kindsa mischief will follow. 

Two, never venture beyond the walls on either side!  If you do you will be trapped in the Slogie world and may never be able to return.  Do you hear my words boy?" 

I nodded, "yes Ganpa."

"Heed my words!" He sounded real serious.

Soon my life changed forever cause I disobeyed one of his rules.

.-...-.

Emily was nine years old and went to St Winifred's Junior School. Each day Janice, her minder, took her along the same route to school: along the A13, passing under the viaduct between Stamford Hill and Tilberry. The A13 is a dual carriageway; the two concrete walls supporting the viaduct protected a hidden garden, unlike any existing outside. There were shrubs, grasses, flowering plants, and ferns even in winter. Each day as they drove past, the wind would bounce off the walls, bringing a sweet-scented balmy perfume into the car, but they would whizz by so fast. They went past in a fraction of a second, so Emily always wound the window down before they reached the viaduct, just to enjoy it. Then, one day they were caught in traffic and crawled slowly past that tiny hidden place. Emily saw dragonflies, shrews, and a feral cat lounging on a rock by a small pool, it was waiting for small creatures and birds it could pounce on. She thought it was the most beautiful place she had ever seen. 

.-...-.

Ganpa was the guardian of the Portal.  It was his job to see that nothing disturbed the peace beyond the entry point.  I had been assisting him for a few weeks.  I went to call him at home one morning and found him still abed.

"Celby, I am feeling unwell, you will have to stand guard alone today."

"Of course Ganpa," I felt proud to be asked.  It is a ceremonial office but I was still looking forward to my first duty alone, as guardian of the portal between the Paece and the Slowgie worlds.  I had assisted Ganpa, as part of my training, but never before stood guard alone.  But, as I entered the Slowgie world I sensed something had changed, something was wrong.  I had been on duty for thirty minutes. Usually, the cars would pass from right to left in that time.  Cars are silly slow-moving boxes with Slowgies sitting like statues inside them. We can see them but, they are in another time slice, and we move too fast to register on their senses. They don't even know that we exist. But, today the cars were not moving at all. 'It can't harm' I thought, 'just a quick peek' so I looked into the open window of the nearest car.

It was dark inside, and it took a while for my eyes to adjust. Then I saw them.  A pair of bright blue eyes, 'No,' I thought and looked away. But it was too late! Our eyes met and our minds synched. Her memories and experiences flooded into my mind... 

.-...-.

"Oh my goodness," said Emily seeing a shock of stark yellow hair. The tawny eyes gazing back at hers held a look of foreboding. The small creature looked like an elf from one of her school books. 

"I'm not an elf, I'm Celby, guardian of the portal." I backed away from the door as she opened it and stepped out.  She was real tall, about four feet, twice my height, and her hands head and body were all larger than mine.

"My name is Emily." 

"Yes, I know you, Emily Rushmore." 

"You know?" she said.  "How do you know, and how can you talk without moving your lips?  What are you?" 

"I'm a Paece, and you're a Slowgie!"

"No, I am not!  I'm human." 

"We call you Slowgies..." 

"Why?  That sounds rather rude." 

"Look!" I pointed to the statue-like figure in the front seat of her car. 

Emily opened the passenger door expecting Janice to turn and scold her for getting out on the dual carriageway. But, she sat silent and stiff. Emily reached out to touch her face, it was cold and hard. "Janice, are you ok?" 

"See?" I said in triumph. "She's okay but time goes slower for her, and would have for you if I hadn't broke Ganpa's first rule. I'm sure gonna get it for that!" 

"Don't tell him about it, how would he know anyway?" 

"Oh! He will know, he always does; he was once a yella like me." 

"It's so nice here; would you show me around your garden Celby, please?" 

She took my hand in hers and squeezed it gently, "then I'll return to the car, and drive off to school.  What harm would it do?" She walked over to the pool, made to stroke the cat, it didn't move, it felt like stone. Then she turned to the tiny shrew and picked it up, it was like a plastic model, she looked into its eyes, they were glazed, she placed it back where the grass still bore its imprint.  Then seeing the cat, ready to spring, she moved it to safety.

"Were not supposed to interfere like that," I said. 

"It's only one meal, and that tiny shrew may have a family to feed."

"The cars are moving again," I said. 

"Does that mean I'll have to go back to the car?" 

I nodded, "our time doesn't extend beyond that wall, if you let the car go you may never get back inside." 

"Will I be able to visit you again?" 

"If you leave your window open, and I am the guardian on that day, I could let you back in." 

"Do we still have a little time?" 

I nodded, "we have about ten minutes." 

She gazed at the dark patch in the centre of the glade and moved towards it. "Is this the portal to your world?"

"You can't go there!" I said. 

"Why not?" she asked, moving closer. "It seems to be a pale misty space, then it changes into a tunnel of light, but I can't see through it."

"Please!" I threw my arms up in front of her pushing on her waist. "They will know I broke the rules if you enter. I'll talk with Ganpa and maybe on another visit..." 

"When I leave here it will seem like a dream. How will I know your world truly exists?" 

I took my Speaka's medallion from around my neck and slid it onto her wrist, it was a perfect fit. "Look upon this and you will remember." 

Emily bent down and kissed me on the cheek, so I smiled and gave her a hug. A small tear formed in her eye. "It's been so nice visiting Celby."

"We'll meet again Emily, I promise." I helped her into the car, and closed the door.

"Don't forget your promise Celby." 

 "Just time for one more thing," I said opening the front passenger side door.  Right at the top of Janice's purse was a bright red lipstick. "I've done this before," I said, painting a bright red blob on the tip of Janice's nose.  I closed the car door, and smiled when I heard Emily's giggling in the rear, she'd seen my trick through the rearview mirror. 

I gazed deep into her eyes, blinked, and looked away.  The link was broken; she froze. 

But, I could see she was still a gigglin.  "heh heh!"

Copyright Len Morgan