Sharp As A Knife

I found some notes from earlier in my life

They brought back bitter memories as sharp as a knife

How could it be that the things of that day

Would have such consequences that linger and stay?


Events That Stay With You

There are events, deeply personal, that stay with you. These may be rather insignificant to others, but to you they are pivotal. A tiny prompt such as a snippet of a song or a chance fragrance on the breeze may call to mind a first kiss, an award, or a million other things may fill your nostalgic heart with joy. The darker emotions too can be raised as well, and anniversaries of the death of a loved one, or other personal tragedy may come unwanted at intervals into your life. These each are our individual but shared lot

The shared impact of mutual experience also stays with us collectively. There are those “where were you when?” moments that seem to unite us. In my life there have been several. I was alive when JFK was assassinated, though I was too young to actually recall it. I do however remember the death of ML King and the unrest that followed; the space shuttle Challenger explosion and the shock of it on the faces of those around me; the death of Diana and the rush of several of my friends and family to London to be part of the collective loss. I can recall vividly my headteacher coming into my classroom to tell me of the 9-11 attacks and the television images of a world in horror. Now, today tens if not hundreds of thousands of people, many of whom have queued for nearly a full day will gather for the funeral of Queen Elizabeth II. Her death is one of those defining moments as well, an event that stays with you.


Memory Lane

Garden, Swing, Wooden, Old, Fun

I travel down the garden path

The memory lane of my childhood’s making

Trodding o’er the stepping stones

Between Grandma’s hydrangeas

The path seems shorter now

Than when I was six or eight

I remember it having taken longer then

To reach the garden gate

The old swing seems much too small

How could I have ever fit it?

But my heart still fills with joy

As I recollect my youthful visits


Paint Chip Poetry Free Write: stepping stone, grandma’s hydrangeas

Shells of Memory: A Haibun


The day of my memory wasn’t on some luscious sandy expanse with clear blue waters. It was in fact a rather dreary day at Donegal Bay, and the carpet of jellyfish on the surf looked almost as if you could walk on them, they were so thick. What was amazing to a small boy was the shells on the shore, there were hundreds, maybe thousands on them. As I look back at it they were not pristine in any way. I am sure most were broken or irregular, but I enjoyed collecting them. In the end, I had a little suitcase full of them, though the case was probably not much larger than a lunch box.

Little treasure chest
Full of King Neptune’s riches
Shells of memory


Walk with me down Memory Lane

Shooting Star: A Haibun (with double haiku)


Dark, Darkness, Meteor, Night

Image by OpenClipart-Vectors from Pixabay

I drove past a quiet lay-by today.  It was the same one that a couple of years ago I went to with my wife to observe a meteor storm.  The ambient light in our little town made seeing the spectacle difficult so we drove a couple of miles out of town and parked to watch the light show.  It remains a memorable experience, and even more so since she is now gone.

A flash of brilliance
Streak of light lifting the heart
So swiftly passing

You too a life-light
Giving incredible joy
But you to have passed



Visiting the Past

Photo credit: ©

The past is open to us

It requires no machine

For in our memory

We can recall what we’ve seen


Our lives roll out before us

All that’s come a fore

With a smile we can remember

Events we adore


Our loves and fond encounters

To visit in our minds

Requiring just moment

Never leaving them behind


So time travel is a concept

Not made just for science fiction

But a reality to us all

With just a little reflection




Inspiration Call: Time Travel

Time travel was a genre of both literature and film that my wife, Dianne enjoyed.  She marveled at concept and adored Dr Who, Time Traveller’s Wife, Somewhere in Time, and so many more.  I am blessed now by the memory of having shared these with her, and as the poem suggests revisiting the life we had together.


Horse, Cob, Piebald, Animal, Equestrian, Equine, Mane

Image by Penstones from Pixabay 

It was late summer and a refreshing summer breeze gently blew. The Roma family sat near a clearing at the roadside, their piebald pony munching grass as they themselves ate breakfast.  They did not hear the approach of the SS patrol from the forest, nor expect the burst of automatic fire.  They could not know of the burning of their wagon home, or that their precious pony would become the property of a Ukrainian peasant after the beast had bolted. No more laughter or music would flow from their campfires, nor would any ever again lovingly call their names.

(99 Words)


Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge