Flown Away

CCC # 117

A fly by night company some might say

Ferrying passengers to off shore stays

Passenger Terminal – the sign points the way

But it no longer seems to function

Since the rigs moved away

So not fly by night or even by day

I guess modern business works that way


Padre

Crimson’s Creative Challenge #117

Rue Britannia

CCC #104

They said that Brexit was the only way

And that we should seek it without delay

While Boris on zip-wires flags did display

A virus was brewing far away

And was the Cabinet for it prepared

As they to Oxbridge clubs repaired?

They left it to Dominic and his ilk

Who did things more despicable

Than Maggie with the milk

And as we enter lockdown once again

For anyone with half a brain –

That it would come to this

Was so easy to ascertain


Padre

Crimson’s Creative Challenge #104

Drake’s Heroic Return

CCC #102

It was quite the eventful year. The invasion of the Spanish had threatened English shores, but Drake was at the ready. That stalwart defender of the Sceptred Isle’s navigation left his coastal home and saw-off the white-faced Iberian intruders. It was with great celebration that he retuned home in triumph. He was truly a Mallard among Mallards. May the bards long sing of his exploits, and may this be but the first in a long series of salutes.


Padre

Crimson’s Creative Challenge #102

The Test

Dragon'S Head, Viking, Ship, Boat, Vicky, Flake

Pixabay

Brother Eardwine rushed down the aisle pausing only long enough to genuflect before the altar.  He had to hurry, for three sleek, high-prowed vessels had been spied just as dawn began to break.  It had only been the isle’s contrary tides and the prayers of the brothers that had bought him any time at all.

Father Winfrith joined him only a moment later and the two men quick deposited the silver chalice and crucifix into an old sack.  Reaching under the altar the priest retrieved a small golden casket and placed it reverently into the bag.

Leaving the chapel, the pair made their way to the scriptorium where Winfrith selected a single volume and added it to the sack.  A large number of clay inkwells and similar worthless vessels were then thrust into a second sack.

“I’ll take the pottery,” Winfrith said. “You take the relics to the cave and don’t return until someone comes for you.”

“Yes Father,” the young brother replied.

Eardwine then covered his tonsure with his cowl, and headed down a narrow passageway.  Meanwhile,  Father Winfrith threw his sack over his shoulder and set off to draw the attention of the raiders.

By late afternoon, Eardwine could smell smoke on the breeze. He sat cowering in his little refuge for two days, but no messenger ever arrived to beckon his return.  It was only hunger that in the end drew him into the open, and thus, he returned to the ruins of his monastic home.

With devotion in his heart, and Saint Matthew’s tax ledger and pen at his side, Eardwine vowed to rebuild his community.  But being a pragmatic youth, he decided to take his sacred treasures inland, abandoning the island forever.

No one can alter God’s will, and the Lord had surely preserved Eardwine and the relics on this occasion.  But when it came to rebuilding – well – as Saint Matthew himself wrote: “‘You shall not test the Lord, your God.”

 

Padre

 

Saturday Mix – Double Take

Our homophone sets this week are:

aisle – walkway
I’ll – contraction of “I will”
isle – island

alter – to change
altar – raised centre of worship

A Sad Situation

Beauty In A White Coat, Brunette

Pixabay

Madelyn had always been a healthy and active individual.  She had played field hockey at school, and even was given a scholarship to play the sport at university.  On finishing her degree, she was thrilled to be recruited for a major financial firm near Canary Wharf in London.   All of her Californian friends were envious of the opportunities and experiences she would have.

Her arrival in the UK was in an exceptionally hot summer by British standards, but didn’t seen all that uncomfortable for the San Diego native.  Her flat was modern, yet un-air conditioned, so she spent much of her out of the office time exploring the landmarks or just chilling in Hyde Park.

As October, and then November crept around, Madelyn found the damp chill a little too much to deal with.  She began to spend more and more of her leisure time in the warmth of her amply heated flat.  Despite this she felt increasingly ill.  There were days when she felt so listless that she could barely pull herself from under the bed covers and go to work.

Eventually, with Christmas around the corner, and the fatigue rowing more intense, she scheduled an appointment with her doctor.  Some blood tests were made, and she was told that they would have the results in seven to ten days.  It proved an incredibly long week for Madelyn.  Not only was she constantly exhausted, but she had a nagging worry about the upcoming diagnosis.  Was it cancer? she would muse.  It was almost too much to bear.

Finally the day of the follow-up GP’s visit came.   She entered the doctor’s surgery with apprehension.

“Miss Warren, please take a set,” the doctor said.

“It’s bad isn’t it?” Madelyn blurted out.

“No.  It’s SAD actually,” the GP replied.

“Sad?” Madelyn queried.

“Yes, Seasonal Affective Disorder – that and some low vitamin levels.  It affects a lot of people in Britain.  The low levels of sun light in the Autumn and Winter have a physical impact on the body.  I am going to prescribe some Vitamin D capsules for you, and I recommend that you try a light box.  Many people find they help.

Later that evening, after a trip to Boots Chemists, Madelyn settled onto her bed and plugged in her new Lumie SAD Lamp.  “Well then,” Madelyn said, ” I guess You are my sunshine.”

 

Padre

 

Saturday Mix – Mad About Metaphor: You are my sunshine

 

Leaving London

 

Vehicles On The Road

Photo by Lina Kivaka from Pexels

Leaving London – crossing Thames

The capital departed – to find hidden gems.

Goodbye Westminster, Soho, and more

There’s far more places than “The City” to explore.

Visitors and tourists this error don’t make

To just stay by the Thames-side,

An entire island to forsake.

Fens and Broads; Moors and Downs,

Quaint little villages, and Market towns:

All await you – if London you just quit

And without London weighting,

You might save a bit.

 

Padre